Our Royal Duties
by hedgehogkween
Summary: Arthur, a prince of the kingdom of Green, is forced into marriage with the prince of the Red Kingdom as a result of their loss on the field of battle. Based off of an RP with TheFantasticJess, my first fic based off of an RP. Also, probably one of my longest. Contains FrUk, UsUk, smut, mpreg, and other things along the way.
1. Black and White

Arthur looked down at himself, scowling and rubbing tears from his eyes. The white dress that he had been forced into by the various servants of the Red castle reached down past his ankles, the hoops of the skirt raising the skirt just a little bit off of the ground because of the way he sat. The trim of the dress was done in red thread, and was woven through the white silk so tightly that it looked almost like roses made of bloodstains covered the skirt of the dress. He had thought it odd at first that he had been put in such clothing, but as he had been the only one of his family to be removed from the dungeon he could only assume that there was some reason for it. He had learned, to his horror, that his parents had made a deal with the leaders of the Red Kingdom- who currently held them prisoner, Arthur himself included- that he would be given to the Red Kingdom in exchange for the freedom of his people, and the end of a war between the Red Kingdom and his own kingdom of Green. Nobody had expected such an offer, so of course when it was made Arthur's parents had handed him over without so much as a second thought. Arthur didn't blame them, of course, but it still hurt him to think that he was being given as a peace offering to a people that he loathed so. Whoever had been sent to collect Arthur- or "Alice", as he was being called now- had mistaken him for a woman, because now he was to be married to the only prince of the RedKingdom. Arthur had never met the boy in his life, and was completely opposed to the idea. If it hadn't been for the deal made between their parents Arthur probably would have found a way to escape and would have left without looking back. A small noise at the door to his dressing room caused him to jump, he not having expected anyone to come for him. He could see the blue eyes of the prince peeking through the door and he hurriedly rubbed his eyes on his long gloves, shivering fearfully.

Francis smirked a bit to himself. He had been watching "Alice" through a small crack between the door and the wall, eager to see his bride before the wedding started. He had heard that he had been given a beautiful princess from the now conquered kingdom of Green, although he had wondered about whether or not it was true due to the rumors going around that the Green royal family had only been known to have sons; five of them. To his disappointment, he found that the rumors were false, and that there was a young woman sitting inside the dressing room and preparing herself for the wedding. He would have rather been married to one of the sons, having little interest in women. He leaned against the door just enough to cause a small creaking sound, causing the young woman to notice him. He silently pushed the door open, taking in the appearance of the person in front of him; she had short, blonde hair and a thin frame, although her face was hidden by the wedding veil that covered it. "Are you mon petit wife?" he whispered softly, a small smirk tugging at his lips but disappearing when he noticed her tears. "Don't cry now, amour, I have only just met you and today is our wedding day. I'll take you down there, alright?"

Arthur defiantly covered his face with his hands, wanting to scream at the other to leave him alone and go away but fearing some further punishment from the guards. He had been beaten around well enough during his time in captivity and had the marks to show it, most of which were either hidden by the dress of had been carefully covered by makeup. He had barely even been listening to Francis. He tried to say something but all that came out was a choked sob, after which he sealed his lips and looked back at him in terror. All of the small red beads and gemstones clinked together of his veil when he turned his head, moving on one fluid motion with the movement of the translucent fabric over Arthur's face.

Francis's smile faltered with this, but he walked up to him and lightly brushed some of the Englishman's hair behind his ear. "_If I don't marry you, your weak and pathetic kingdom will die and your parents will most likely die with it. Your brothers will be forced into slavery."_ He whispered softly, beginning to get irritated with Arthur's sobbing. "My sweet, little dove, I won't hurt you though, you're a treasure, you're going to be my wife…" With the word 'my' he placed a hand on Arthur's shoulder, gripping him tightly. "Trust me, I'm doing this to save you, they're going to kill you if you don't do this…" he whispered. As hard as Francis tried to be gentle and loving he found it difficult to do so with Arthur, seeing as the younger man hated him already. "Please, we need to go. Now." His grip on Arthur's shoulder tightened.

Arthur winced, his eyes widening with the harsh words. He slowly stood up, thinking sadly of his youngest brother, Peter. The poor boy had gotten sick during their capture so many times that they thought it was a miracle that he wasn't yet dead. After their surrender, Peter had gotten all of the medical care he needed, and was as healthy as he could be. Arthur took a shaky breath.

_"You have to do this…"_ He mentally told himself. _"Do it for Peter…"_ He turned his head toward Francis, catching only a brief glimpse of his face before the veil hid it from view again. "F-fine…" He murmured fearfully, tears still rolling down his cheeks although he wasn't really crying. "I-I'll do what y-you want…" His eyes drifted downward to where he assumed the ground would be under his dress. He hated wearing the stuffy dress almost as much as he hated the jewelry that went with it. They had made him pierce his ears just so that they could put earrings in them, although they were forced to use small golden studs instead of large heavy ones that matched everything else. With the exception of the two golden studs, all of the jewelry was golden with red gemstones that matched exactly with the thread of his dress and the beads of his veil. Most prominent was a heavy gold necklace, which weighed down on his chest and fell nearly to the chest padding in his corset. The stones on it got a bit bigger as the space between them narrowed, creating a sort of upside-down triangle of golden chain connecting them. Arthur found the entire thing to be quite vulgar, and while he was a prince himself he had never had the luxury of such rich jewels and found them to be horribly gaudy looking. He wore the colors of his sworn enemy, and here he was marrying said enemy. "_Monster_…" he whispered, the word almost inaudible.

Francis's smirk returned when his bride stood. "Bien." He chuckled softly, taking Arthur's arm in his own. "Be quiet until the priest tells you to cher, or unless I tell you to." His smile darkened a bit and he moved his face closer to Arthur's. "_Your family is watching the wedding. We managed to let them out of that horrid prison. However, once we say our vows, you will only be able to write to them. No contact except on holidays_…" He whispered roughly, and then the darkness in his face disappeared. He led Arthur out of the small dressing room and into the long hallway. Their footsteps echoing off of the walls was the only sound heard on their walk to the grand hall, making their seemingly endless walk there feel even longer. Francis stopped when they approached the door, smirking a bit. "I'll meet you at the altar. Walk down the aisle like a good little bride." He chuckled and smirked a bit, starting his own long walk down the aisle. He was able to walk a little quickly, taking his place to the right of the priest and giving Arthur a small smile. It was a long walk down the rose-petal covered aisle, but he was sure that "she" wouldn't be able to run away in such a heavy dress.

When Francis had taken his arm, Arthur had only barely reminded himself not to pull away in disgust. Once he was outside the room on his own he stood still, waiting for Francis before starting his own slow walk down the aisle. He now regretted having been so easily forced into heeled shoes, wobbling a bit with each step on the three-inch heel. How in the hell could women walk in these things? Arthur tried to keep his eyes up to keep his mind off of his imbalance and noticed his own family; His mother, his father, and two of his four brothers- Peter, the youngest, and Allistor, the eldest. The sad, blue eyes of Peter lit up when he saw Arthur. He gave his brother a little wave and Arthur smiled in return, but didn't stop to wave back. He knew that if he messed anything up that they were all done for. After what felt like an era had passed Arthur made it to the end of the aisle and stood by Francis, feeling not unlike a dog would when he approaches his master for a non-deserved punishment. He kept his eyes down after that, having been able to see his mother crying when he smiled at Peter and not wanting to have to see it again for fear that he would start crying with her.

Francis struggled to retain his smile as Arthur slowly walked down the aisle. He could see that "she" had next to no experience walking in heeled shoes, if not none at all. He nearly lost his smile completely when Arthur looked at his saddened family and smiled. It seemed such a strange thing to do. Her steps were almost painfully slow, and Francis found himself watching her feet just to keep himself from glancing around the attendant out of boredom. When Arthur finally made his way to Francis's side he took up Arthur's slender hands, trying to suppress his urge to pull back the veil. The priest began speaking loudly and somewhat slowly, with several mentions to the RedKingdom and how it would rule all and forever, and keep the future couple happy.

"Francis Marius Bonnefoy, do you take…" the priest hesitated a moment, peering closely at the paper. Someone had blotted out Arthur's first name in ink and hurriedly written in some other female name to hide his identity. The handwriting was messy, but just enough ink had been left off of the first letter of Arthur's name to make it look like it could have been blotted out for a misspelling, and leaving his new female name above the printed letters. "…_Alice_ Kirkland to be your wife, and your future queen?"

Francis hesitated a moment, looking up at Alice. He could see small tears falling from the end of her chin, sparkling for a moment like small crystals as the light reflected on them perfectly for a fraction of a second before they fell silently into the carpet. He felt a bit bad about having made her cry, and even worse remembering that she had been forced into this with the sure alternative of death. "I… I do…" he mumbled hesitantly.

"And, ah, Miss _Alice_, do you take Francis to be your husband."

Arthur took about half a second to regain enough composure to manage a small, stuttered "I-I do". He bit his lip. He heard the room break out into a sort of mechanical clapping, but didn't raise his eyes to look around. He knew already that his own family couldn't be clapping. He was sure that this would be the last time in his life that he would ever get to see them. The RedKingdom wasn't exactly famous for its treatment of captives- infamous really- and they all knew it. A small shiver ran down his spine, letting another tear slip unnoticed from his eyes and down his cheek. He wished that his true lover had been there, but as they were still in the kingdom of Blue he knew that there was even less chance of him seeing them than there was of him escaping with his family. Hell, by the time they even heard about the marriage of Prince Francis and "Princess Alice" they would probably all think him dead. He desperately hoped that the other would find out of his true location someday. He glanced up at his new husband fearfully, a small whimper escaping his lips.

Francis smiled a little, looking out in to the attendant of the wedding. Red flags were dropped from small windows high in the walls, making the silk flags shine their kingdom's color throughout the room as red rose petals were thrown about. Red. The color of desire, of lust, of blood which he had seen so often in the battles on Green territory that made the battlefields look like the enemy had intentionally painted them their color before leaving the ravaged land triumphantly. The final few words were said and Francis took out the two rings, a simple band of gold for himself and a ring with a large green emerald on it for Arthur. Francis raised Arthur's right hand a bit and slipped the ring onto his fourth finger as the priest closed his book, smiling a bit as everyone was happy for the new couple.

"You may kiss the bride."

Francis wrapped an arm around Arthur's waist and pulled him closer, pulling the veil away from his face and closing his eyes as he pulled Arthur into a kiss. It wasn't a rough, forceful kiss as had been expected. It was just a simple pressing together of the lips, a bit sweet even, and Francis lightly cupped Arthur's cheek with his ring hand just to lengthen the kiss a little longer. The cheers got louder and some even cried with pride and happiness- and extreme sadness from the Kirkland family. Francis pulled away from the kiss but didn't allow Arthur to pull away yet, looking into his eyes. "Tonight you are mine, lapin…" he murmured against his lips.

Arthur had shut his eyes tightly as Francis kissed him, a bit surprised that the kiss hadn't gone on longer or have been a bit more passionate but was by no means disappointed. Arthur looked down once Francis pulled away and noticed, for the first time, how large the emerald was on his ring. How vulgar. His eyes were wide and fearful from the words whispered against his lips, and he looked at his own family for some support. Only Peter, the youngest of his family, was smiling. Peter was clapping vigorously, so innocently happy to see his brother married although confused as to why he was wearing a dress when the other person clearly looked more like a woman with their long hair. Peter ignored the glare he was getting from their eldest brother, who had spent the rest of the ceremony staring coldly at Francis from his seat. Arthur gave them a small smile and then looked at Francis, laughing nervously.

Francis let the veil fall over "her" eyes again and opened his own, wanting to keep "her" beautiful face to himself. He looked at Arthur's family, a sudden pang of guilt striking him when he noticed how sad and desperate they looked. He gave them a look as if to say "I promise I'll take care of your daughter". None of them seemed to notice and he started to walk with Arthur back down the aisle until his own pair of cerulean eyes met another, a pair that belonged to the youngest of the Kirkland brothers. The boy smiled at him a little before sitting back down with his family. Francis was stunned, a small fluttering starting in his heart as he was smiled at. He had thought that everyone in the GreenKingdom had wanted him dead. He decided quickly that he loved this boy like his own brother and returned the smile and a little wave, unconscious of the small tears running down his cheeks. He turned back to Arthur and took her arm again. "Let us live together now, my dear, as this castle is ours and it always will be…" He said softly, leading Arthur up the aisle just a little more quickly that he was capable of walking in the high-heeled shoes. He looked back down the aisle again and saw Peter smiling at him again, and this time he gave him a small smile back. He was curious as to why the boy looked at let alone smiled at him when it was so forbidden to meet eyes with an enemy. He found it a bit sweet, and looking at "Alice" made him feel bad to be taking her away from such a caring family. "I…I'll do anything not to hurt you, okay?" he whispered at her.

Arthur simply turned his head away from him. He didn't believe Francis's words for a second, and he hated the way he kept looking at _his_ family. He was a little upset that his own younger brother had been naive enough to actually smile at the man. Arthur glanced back at them, stopping suddenly. He was both a bit happy and completely mortified to see the little boy running down the aisle after them, drawing the attention of the entire attendant with him. "_Peter!" _Arthur yanked his arm away from Francis and knelt down near the boy just as he ran up and hugger his around his neck. Arthur quickly pulled him away, much to the boy's surprise and confusion. "Peter, you go-" but Arthur stopped as Peter, to the horror of both himself and his parents, hugged Francis's legs for a few seconds before running happily back to his parents. Arthur's face paled and he stood back up quickly, urging Francis to leave the room as quickly as possible, regardless of his near inability to walk in his heels. Once they were alone outside the large room Arthur stopped Francis, looking up at him in terror. "I-I'm so s-sorry, h-he doesn't… W-we couldn't… I-I'm sorry!" he said, words tumbling forward desperately in hopes of saving the boy. "P-please, don't be angry with him, h-he's only seven years old, h-he doesn't know any better!"

Francis hated how shy and nervous his new wife was, wishing only to relate to her and to make her happy after her long suffering. He was startled by the sound of footsteps behind him, fearing that someone had come to take his lay from him, but relaxing a little when he saw that it was only the boy from earlier. He watched enviously as Arthur was hugged by him, and how Arthur hugged him back, wishing that he had younger siblings of his own. The only "siblings" he had were the many bastard children his father had with various women- mostly prostitutes- before being forced to settle down with his mother. He sighed, his gaze lowering until he noticed the boy hugging his leg. The shock caused him to stay in his place, unable to react before he had run off. He was just about to hug him back when Arthur began to lead him away from the room. "Doesn't know any better?" he repeated incredulously, shaking a bit. "That boy has the only happy face I've seen in years… I have wanted you to be happy but you're practically afraid of me!" He went quiet and walked with Arthur, his face dark but his expression blank.

Arthur bit his lip and looked away from him. He could only imagine what his parents would say to Peter, if the guards didn't get to him first. The idea of Peter being locked up again terrified him. "I-I _am_ afraid of you…" he admitted. By this point he didn't care what trouble his words got him into. "Y-you… your army… th-they destroyed my home. I-I watched your army cut open the stomachs of m-my brothers' corpses…" Arthur shuddered at the awful memory. For weeks after the incident all they could do was sit and cry, wishing that the two boys were still with them. Their bodies had been burnt, the soldiers calling them "bastard scum" and thinking them not worthy of a proper burial. He unconsciously clung more tightly to Francis's arm, hoping that he would forget about Peter all together. The boy had been treated almost as badly as Arthur himself had, and yet the boy still had heart enough to be kind to the man responsible for his treatment. "Th-that happy face… I-I hope you never see it from him again. He doesn't deserve to be in this place…"

Francis was silent for the rest of the walk as he led his new bride to their room. He knew that everyone was expecting for them to begin planning their honeymoon, but Francis wouldn't allow such a thing yet. After what he had seen of the remaining Kirkland family, he just didn't think it appropriate. He walked just a little faster as they got closer to the room and locking the door behind them once they were inside. He sat Arthur down on the bed and clamped a hand over his mouth, kneeling in front of him and looking up desperately. "I know, they've told me everything about our families… they hate each other. Mine wants yours dead, and vice versa… I-I want to help you, I can't stand to see you cry, Please." He babbled on in French for a minute before looking up at him to translate, tears in his eyes. "I'm going to set you free. I won't let them hurt your family anymore. I'd rather have my father hang me for letting you all free then see your kingdom die. I hate my kingdom more than anything and I know you think I'm lying, making this all up and everything, but you don't have to love me. Please, run away as quickly as you can, I'll disguise a maid as you if I have to! Protect yourself Alice." He pulled his hands from Arthur's and sobbed softly.

Arthur just stared back at him in shocked terror, thinking that he had gone insane. He was completely speechless for a few agonizingly silent moments before the memory of Peter's sweet, innocent smile returned to him. He sighed, putting a gentle hand on Francis's head. "I-I think that attempting something like that is crazy… insane even. B-but, if you really want to help us… g-get them out first." He said quietly. "Th-they're all much more important to the kingdom, and it would draw far too much attention if I suddenly just disappeared…" he sighed. He knew that this would probably be his only chance to escape from his hell of a life, and he was giving it up so easily. "B-besides, it's anything but safe over there… I know, y-you probably think that you know what our kingdom is like, b-but… w-well, it barely even exists anymore. Your armies… wh-whatever they didn't destroy, they conquered. Th-the capitol, the castle, th-they took those out first…" He stroked Francis's hair absently, feeling as though he should have been crying although he knew that he had no tears left to cry.

Francis sobbed on, listening to his words but failing to notice the slight masculinity in his tone. "Non, you need to get out of here as quickly as possible. They could be killing your family as we speak, I'll risk my life to do this for you. Sil vous plait, I need you to listen to me…" He sat up a bit and tried to look past the veil. "Earlier I ordered a coachman to take your family to the BlueKingdom. They are to live there until your own kingdom is rebuilt. Listen, you're going to be safe, I'm making it that way." Wish a nervous sigh he reached up to Arthur's face and pulled the veil up, taking a moment to study his features. The makeup covering the scars on his face gave him an almost baby-faced look, making his usually pale and gaunt face look round and sweet. The light dusting of pink across his cheeks looked almost like a real blush, although it was really just rouge applied to his cheeks to make him look feminine. His blue eyes his the dazzling green of Arthur's own and even with his bushy, unsightly eyebrows, he looked so very pretty. "M-mon _Dieu_…" he said softly. "Y-you must be the most beautiful woman I've ever seen in my life…"

Underneath the rouge a light blush really did appear across Arthur's cheeks, although it was deeper than the mere pink of his cheeks and was nearly a reddish color which only showed on the tips of his ears with the makeup. "I-it's very kind of you to do this for us, but… I-if anyone noticed us missing, the kingdom of Blue is surely the first place they would look… The GreenKingdom simply isn't going to rebuild itself." He pulled himself away from Francis, taking his smooth hands in his own rougher, more beaten looking ones. "Besides, if anyone saw us… s-saw you…" Arthur stopped, shaking his head. "Just get them out… please. I highly doubt that anyone would notice their absence. I… I-I'm your wife now, if they were to come looking for _me_ and find that I was missing…" He choked a bit, hiding his eyes in Francis's hands. He sobbed quietly without a single tear shed. He didn't care for anything else that Francis had to say or do, he refused to let another word be said on the matter. As much as he wanted to escape, to leave this hellhole which he had spent so much time in behind and to run back to the home that no longer existed, he would do no such thing at the expense of his family. Especially Peter. The veil fell back down over his head and Francis hands as he sobbed. Some of the makeup was beginning to rub off, including a small amount that had been covering a rather nasty bruise on his cheek.

Francis felt another sudden fluttering in his heart as Arthur took his hands. He pulled one hand away and rubbed circles on Arthur's back with his thumb, hoping to give him some comfort. "Mon lapin, I'll do whatever I can. If I cannot get you out of this, then I'll do all that I can to be your loving husband and take care of you." He frowned a little as the veil fell back down, wishing that he could meet "her" eyes again. He moved to sit on the bed next to him and wipe away his nonexistent tears, placing a hand on Arthur's side. He suddenly went silent when his hand found her hip, barely able to believe what he felt. She was so thin, her hips felt caved in and barely even full. His heart nearly broke. She would be unable to bear children, or would at least die if she attempted to do so. He felt tears prickle in the back of his eyes and leaned forward to press a soft kiss to her face, giving a small sigh of broken dreams. "Desole… I'm so sorry…" he whispered, running his hand down his hip.

Arthur rubbed his eyes, a bit confused as to what he meant at first. When the realization finally hit him he smiled a little. "Oh, th-that… d-don't worry about that. I just haven't really been eating is all. I-I haven't actually had a decent meal since…" he stopped, blinking in surprise. "…a good few months actually." He had forgotten a good few thoughts in his fear of marrying Francis, one of them being how starving he really was. It was really no wonder that Francis though him too weak or frail to …procreate. He suddenly realized exactly what Francis was talking about and the heat of blood rushed back to his cheeks. _'God, I'll have to tell him at some point…'_ he thought. And even if he were a woman, he knew that he probably wouldn't want to do _that_ with him, although he had always dreamed of someday having children… granted, he had always thought that he would be marrying a woman to do so. "If it turns out to be a problem, then I'll find a way to fix it… w-we'll cross that bridge when we get to it, as they say." He laughed weakly, giving Francis a hesitant but loving smile. Surely there would be a way for him to do something to help the problem. He had heard stories of magic-users being able to do wondrous things, surely things that were more complicated that turning a man into a woman. _'Oh good god, what am I __**thinking**__?'_ he thought, both mentally kicking himself and laughing a little at his thoughts. Maybe, just maybe, he could learn to have affection for Francis.

Francis's eyes widened in shock at the beginning words. "I was going to ask why you seemed so off. There will be a feast tonight in honor of the wedding, and then after that… w-well… I'll just say that the night is a big choice." He sighed and looked away from him at the second words. "Je suis desole. In my family children are very, very cherished. That's why I have so many older siblings. But… we're going to have to soon. If my parents find out that you are unable to… conceive, they'll kill you for sure…" Francis was silent for a few moments, but he returned Arthur's loving smile and placed a kiss against his veiled face, nuzzling his neck tenderly. "I still love you the way you are, and I'm fine if you're just a bit different…" he said softly. It seemed odd that he would act so lovingly to this "woman" when he had originally wanted to marry a man, but the sight of Arthur's family, of Peter, of their sadness, he thought that he owed it to them to take good care of her. He didn't mind the slightly low tone in her voice, or the slightly broad shoulders. She was so slender and pretty everywhere else that she looked beautiful anyway, and made her dress look even better. "I'm going to do everything that I so that we have a happy life together, alright?" He smiled at her.

Arthur nodded, smiling a little. "Y-yes, alright…" he murmured, losing himself in his thoughts. He was worried about what would come of his inability to bear children if he kept his secret for too much longer. He knew that Francis would be furious with him if he found out that he was really a man, and would have him killed on the spot. He would probably even do it himself. He had to find a magic user if he wanted to make the marriage work, even if only for the sake of making sure that his family was kept safe. His stomach growled loudly and he jumped, a bit startled. "O-oh, um, e-excuse me…" he mumbled, blushing a bit and laughing. He looked at Francis again and his blush deepened when he realized that Francis's hand was still on his waist. He felt nervous tears prickle in his eyes and wrapped an arm around Francis's neck, burying his face in Francis's neck to hide any more tears that could come to him. He was felt so lucky that Francis thought him beautiful, otherwise he was sure that he would have been killed as soon as the man saw him. He shuddered at the thought of what would have become of Peter or Allistor if he had tried to escape with them… they would probably all get caught and die. Arthur shivered a bit, biting down on his lip to keep himself from whimpering.

Francis sighed, giving her a gentle kiss. "It's fine cher, that's not until much later. We won't have to have children until we're good and ready." He mumbled, hoping to comfort her. His gaze lowered to the ground until the sound from Arthur's stomach jolted him from his thoughts. He was a bit confused for a moment until he realized where the sound had come from, his eyes finding their way back to Arthur's veiled face with a smile painted across his lips. "N…Non, it's alright." He mumbled. When Arthur began being affectionate towards him he felt almost ready to cry. She had hated him only an hour ago and was now starting to love him? He thought it a bit odd, almost suspicious. "You know, Alice… You look like one of the Kirkland men. We probably killed him though, because he wasn't at the wedding. His name was Arthur." Francis stated simply, suspicion rising in him. It felt a bit strange, having Arthur be the one to give him love rather than the other way around. "Alice… it's almost evening now. I'd like to show you around the castle a bit before the feast." He looked at her, his eyes narrowed just a small bit.

Arthur's face paled slightly at the comment about Arthur, glad that the makeup still covered most of his face. "Y-yes, I suppose so…" he murmured. He tried to keep his calm on the outside, although on the inside he was tearing himself up, wondering what he could have done to give himself away. Was it something he had said? Or had he done something? It didn't even occur to him that it could have been no more than a suspicion, or even just a comment. He wracked his brain for some way do dismiss Arthur's existence completely from Francis's mind. "A-Arthur… y-yes, he, um… h-he was killed…" he felt himself start to tear up, fearing that Francis had seen through his lie. "E-early on, during th-the siege of th-the castle... w-we were twins, b-but they didn't w-want anybody t-to find out about m-me..." he mumbled, his voice getting quieter with every moment. It wasn't entirely untrue, his being a twin. He had been told occasionally that he had been born as a twin, but the other one had died at birth. He hadn't thought of it often though, deeming the information irrelevant. Arthur had almost never even been allowed to leave the castle in times of safety, as his parents always feared that he would be captured by a Red spy or something of the like.

Francis lightly picked Arthur up bridal style, holding onto him for a few moments before setting him down in front of the door. Not only did her hips appear to be caved in, but he noticed that "her" torso was also heavier. He thought that perhaps all of her weight was placed on the wrong sides. It seemed like a strange anatomy for a woman, not something that he had seen before. However, as any man would, he assumed that the extra chest weight was, well… from a place forbidden to look. "Don't worry Alice, my sweet, I'm sure that your brother was a great man, although I've only seen him once… I'm quite sorry to mention him, as my memory is quite hazy." His usual thick accent went through and he gave a little sigh. "I have some clothes that we also have to wear to the feast. I must say, your dress is surely one of the most stunning around." He gently smirked and pushed them out of the room and down a long flight of stairs. He showed her only a few things- the servant's quarters, the gardens, some of the extra bedrooms- and avoided the things that could be dangerous, such as the many dungeons tucked away throughout the castle. "Even though this is our castle, my parents will stay here in case they need to kill you or prison you, but I won't allow that. However, we have many traditions you must follow." He chuckled, feeling a bit like some sort of tour guide as he led her around the castle.

Arthur gave a small cry of surprise when he was lifted up, thanking god for the extra padding in his chest that made him look a bit more… womanly. Every moment that he spent with Francis made him feel more and more self-conscious, thinking that Francis would find out what he really was and kill him where he stood. "I-I suppose that I can at least try to follow your traditions…" he mumbled. He had shown a bit of interest in the red kingdom once long ago when he had bene younger, but had lost all hope in his studying it after the siege. The horrible thing had convinced him thoroughly that the RedKingdom was full of nothing but horrible, bloodthirsty beasts. He did so want to convince himself that it wasn't anymore true about them than it was about his own people, but he still wasn't sure about them. If there was any merit that he had to give them, however, it was that they were lovely decorators. "Y-you do have a lovely home here…" he commented as they were starting to leave the gardens. He wished that they could spend a while longer there. Maybe he would convince Francis to take him there again later, as the greenery was a pleasant break for his eyes from all of the red. He had, at least, picked a few long-stemmed clovers and tucked them into his long gloves for good luck.

Francis smiled and gave him a little kiss on the cheek, wrapping his arms around his beautiful woman's waist. "My home? Non, this is _our_ home now, and in the future it will be our children's. We shall live here until one of them is crowned, and then we can move to the countryside and grow old together." He said so excitedly, the arm that had been around Arthur's waist raising to his shoulders and the other being swept in a wide gesture in front of them. He looked around at all of the bright red flags and smiled brightly. Red will be our new color, and we shall wear it with pride and happiness. However… since your eyes are green and not the Bonnefoy blue, you may look suspicious. I suppose that it's understandable though, seeing as you're from that… _pest infested pirate cove._" He spat the last words bitterly. His family, and not even he himself, weren't fond of the people of the GreenKingdom. He hugged her there and closed his eyes. "Je t'aime. Je t'aime beaucoup." He whispered into her ear. He found a nearby rose bush and plucked a flower from it. It wasn't one of the deep, red roses that his family was so fond and proud of. It was just a simple white rose, with some pink in its veins. He opened Arthur's hands and placed the rose into it, smiling a little. "It matches your dress, non?"

Arthur smiled a little, taking the rose and tucking it into his veil. "I-it's lovely, thank you…" he whispered. He glanced out a window to one side of him, his smile slowly fading when he saw red as far as the eye could see. There was not a single doubt in his mind that soon enough there would be no GreenKingdom at all, and it would be blotted out with Red. He silently prayed that there would be fog soon, something that would obscure all of the awful color from his view and make it easier for his family to escape. He was upset and a bit offended by the comment about his home being a "pirate cove". The only pirate cove was a tiny rinky-dink town on a tiny rinky-dink island, far off of the GreenKingdom's coast. "My home is no pirate cove…" he muttered indignantly, turning his head away from him. "And I've proud of my eyes, thank you. They're the last shred of my home's color that I have left within me." He scowled, glaring at him pridefully.

Francis still held onto her. "I'm so glad that you like it… you know, there's never been a kingdom of White before…" He chuckled lightly and pulled the veil back, pulling her into a deep kiss. "We may have been married because we were forced to, but many marriages are done for love, and romance. You seem so shaky, and unwilling at times. Tell me, cher, don't you want to love me just as much as I love you?" He took Arthur's chin between his fingers and forced him to look into his eyes. "Your eyes are still beautiful, but you're like scared little deer inside them. You keep running away from me, and avoiding my love." His grip on Arthur tightened suddenly and became much rougher. "You're hiding a dark little secret, mon petit lapin." He chuckled darkly and started to lead Arthur back toward the stairs up to their room. "Come cher, let's go get dressed… together."


	2. Precious Night

Arthur's eyes widened in terror. Get dressed _with _him? How in the hell was he going to get himself out of this one? He shivered a bit at the thought that not only would he probably be found out and executed, but he would have to watch the other undress at the same time. "I-I, um... I-I'm actually a b-bit shy, about th-that... g-getting dressed together, I-I mean..." he murmured. His voice was no more than a weak, high squeak. Tears started in his eyes. He could practically already feel the blades of the executioner cutting through him, and he started to feel a bit light-headed as they approached their room. At least if he made it to the room before passing out he would have a bed to do so on. He looked at Francis pleadingly, hoping to see even an speck of sympathy in his eyes. "P-please, F-Francis, I… I-I've had to…" he stopped, thinking of whether or not now was the time to tell him exactly why he had been kept in the military camp for so long.

Francis's suspicion only raised when his new wife tried to escape dressing with him. "You shouldn't be shy, as I'm going to be the one to dress you." He led them into the bedroom, locking the door soundly behind them. As soon as they were alone he had Arthur stand in front of him, staying perfectly still. He started with the veil, removing the tiny red gems and blossoms that dotted her hair and placing them in a small pile on the vanity to be dealt with later. He could now see all of her head; her pretty face in the front, and messy hair in the back. He sighed, taking a brush from the vanity and brushed her hair softly. He could tell that long hair for her would probably be a disaster, and a bit unsightly, and that the veil had only made it worse. Then he moved to her back, undoing each of the tiny, silver buttons that ran down the back of the dress. He did this until it was loose enough to be shrugged off of her shoulders, so that he could see her in her skirt and corset. He carefully removed her high-heeled shoes and long gloves, placing the two clovers in the pile with a small chuckle and taking a good look at her figure. He smirked a bit, going to their wardrobe and taking out the new dress. It was a bit similar to the previous dress is shape, but not much else. This new dress was gold, with slightly puffy shoulders and mid-length sleeves. Like the wedding dress it was embroidered with thread of a different color, but unlike the blood red of the previous dress this one was done up in green. Tiny flowers and leaves were stitched into the hemming as well, not real ones of course but the most beautifully made ones that Arthur had ever seen. When he had finished with the new dress, he snipped the stem of the rose, leaving just enough for it to be carefully tucked into her hair. "Don't forget the honeymoon tonight cher...I'll get to see...More of your...beautiful body." He whispered, licking his lips. He went back to the wardrobe for his own suit but stopped a moment, kneeling down to pick something up for her. "I believe these will fit you…" he mumbled. He held up two tiny, golden slippers. Larger- although still handmade- green roses had been sewn onto them. He sat her down on their bed and slipped them onto her dainty feet, smiling a little. When he was done, they would both look so very nice.

Arthur's eyes were wide with fear through the entire procedure, watching Francis carefully. He was a bit relieved that Francis hadn't tried to start their "honeymoon" early or at least remove his underclothes. The whole time he had been silently praying for none of his makeup would rub off. He didn't really look at his beautiful dress or dainty slippers until he happened to glance in a mirror, just to see if he still looked dignified. He smiled a little to himself. He didn't just look pretty, he looked amazing. Francis had done a much better job dressing him than he would have imagined, considering that he was a man. He could just barely see his slippers when he lifted his dress up, noting that they were just the right size for his tiny feet. But he didn't really look so much like a woman, did he? He glanced up at his face in the mirror, shocked and a little distressed to see how feminine he really looked, and how natural the dress looked hanging over his thin frame. He frowned and looked back at Francis, a light dusting of pink starting over his cheeks. While the dark suit from before had made him look intimidating, the new golden suit he wore made him look quite dashing. Handsome even. He turned away and looked at himself in the mirror, pretending to straighten his hair just to give his hands something to do. He looked down, the small space between his chest and the inside of the corset giving him just enough room to see all the way down his body. He hoped that he would be able to eat well enough with it on. Granted, it was actually almost loose around his middle since he had eaten so little in the past few months, but it was almost clinging onto his chest since it had been pulled so tightly. It pulled on him so tightly that he actually thought he might suffocate. He shuddered at the thought, looking hesitantly back at his new husband for some form of comfort. "F-Francis…?" he whispered.

Francis stepped next to Arthur, looking at them both in the mirror. He was glad that he had taken the time to see that they matched properly. While Arthur had been looking at himself in the mirror he had gotten dressed, seeing as he only needed to change two pieces of clothing that were more easily removed than hers. He had been told to wear a corset of his own too, embarrassing as it was seeing as his figure seemed fine to him. His was tighter than Arthur's, even seeing that he'd had to pull it so himself. He found a piece of white ribbon from an old birthday gift and tied up his hair, quite sick of it getting in his face. He placed his hands gently on Arthur's shoulders, looking at them both. "You look lovely, mon ange…" His voice had become soft and sweet, as if the new clothes had changed him completely. "See, we match now." Strange as it seemed, there wasn't a touch of red in either of their new outfits, and barely any in their entire wardrobe, and that damn thing contained almost enough clothing to last the couple an entire year before they had to wear the same thing twice. Francis took note that he would have to have some of the dresses fixed though, seeing that Arthur's hips were in no state to be emphasized in the way most of the dresses did. He looked at Arthur lovingly when the small voice squeaked his name. "Yes mon petit wife? Do you need something?"

Arthur hesitated only a moment. "Um… n-never mind, i-it wasn't important… B-but, um, i-is my family going to b-be attending this too? Or are they already…?" he trailed off, worried about them. He wanted to be able to trust Francis, although he wasn't sure how he could. His family needed to be out of this place sooner than he did, as it was a matter of their lives. Francis had his prize now, so there wasn't much reason left for him to carry out his end of the promise if he didn't have to. His only hope was that he would get to see them again, his mother and father and remaining brothers. He hated to imagine poor little Peter rotting away in some dungeon, dead or not, while Arthur was treated to a life of such splendor and riches as this. Arthur wished that he could adopt Peter just to keep him away from such an awful fate. After all, it wasn't like he could _really _have children, right? _"God, there has o be some way around that…" _he thought. He pulled away from Francis and went to their bedroom window, trying to admire the view. The sky was dark with clouds, implying that some kind of storm could come overnight. Past the castle walls, dark rooftops stretched to the capitol city's limit. Occasionally a tall stone tower stretched into the sky flying the red flag, one in particular closest to the castle stretching above the clouds that if it had a flag, it couldn't be seen. Arthur had never seen anything like it, wondering what such a large building could be used for. It didn't look like any military tower, and the large windows that covered the outside made it painfully clear that there could be no secrets in such a place.

Francis glanced at him, watching him walk to the window but not saying anything. "Non, like I said earlier, they are already on a carriage back to the Blue Kingdom… they should be about halfway there by now." Francis sighed, almost annoyed by her persistence. He understood though, as she probably wouldn't get to see them again for a long time. "Oi… I understand that you love them, but you're here with me now… and I will try to make you happy, okay?" he went to join her by the window, softly rubbing her sides as if to help calm her. "You are ma belle femme, and I couldn't love you more… But seeing you this way just breaks my heart. Please, I love you…" he whispered. He looked into her eyes and realized that she wasn't looking at him, following her gaze to one of the immense stone towers. "I see you like the tower…" he chuckled. "But then, who wouldn't? In there are all of the wizards and alchemists who brew our medicine and tell us folklore. They also tend to the wounds of soldiers and prisoners… and most other people too." He gave Arthur a small smile. "They saved my life when I was young… I nearly died of bronchitis. Perhaps I'll allow you to go and see it while I prepare for our…" he leaned in a bit closer, his sweet smile turning to a devious smirk. "…precious night." His hands drifted a bit lower from her sides, but before he could do anything else a call and a sharp knock came from outside their door.

"Francis dear!" called a loud, slightly deep but feminine voice. "Your mother asks that you be in the dining hall when you are ready. Yours is the seat by hers, per her request." The soft clicking of shoes on stone tile indicated the person outside walking away. Although Francis thought it a bit unfair, he was still required to be in the dining hall a few minutes before his bride.

Arthur, who's mind had stuck at "wizards and alchemists", had almost not heard the sudden call. "Alright… I'll be down shortly then." He mumbled, watching Francis go. He had made up his mind; he was going to that tower. And by the way things seemed to be going, he would either do it that very eve or suffer some awful fate- most likely death. He was terrified of heights. The very idea of being at the top of such a high tower made him gag with a slight dizziness, but if it was what was needed for him to stay alive he would do it. He glanced around the room, waiting until he was completely sure that Francis was out of earshot before going to the wardrobe and picking out a pair of old, slightly beaten looking shoes. He figured that they were likely something that Francis wouldn't miss, and he stowed them behind the door. Once he had run through a plan in his head- a plan that consisted mostly of him getting to the tower and attracting as little attention to himself without actually planning _how_ to do so- he set out into the hallway on a quest to find the dining hall. He _would _get to that tower, regardless of what happened. Even if they couldn't turn him into a proper woman, he figured that they had to be able to do something. He didn't care what they did or how they did it, as long as they made him convincing enough to keep Francis from finding out his dark secret, and keeping his family safe. He stopped, realizing how utterly lost he had allowed himself to get. He reluctantly asked a passing servant for directions, presumably the same one that had come to get Francis for dinner by the sound of her voice. She happily led him to the dining room, although during the entire walk there never for more than a moment did she stop talking. He asked her briefly about the tower, which started in a new round of rambling. While he found it difficult to actually take in any of the information she was telling him, he did catch something about an occasional explosion on some strangely-colored smoke from one of them, and how it nearly scared her youngest child to death at times. _"It must be some sort of secret…"_ he thought, relieved when they finally arrived at the dining hall.

Francis smiled at Arthur before leaving the room, a bit reluctant to join the nobles awaiting him in the dining hall. As he had expected, he was bombarded with questions the moment he sat down. All of the speaking was done in his own language, which he was at least a bit thankful for since it meant that his new wife wouldn't have to be expected to answer any of them. Most of them were demanding to know if she had told him anything yet, although he knew that they meant anything that could be used against the opposing kingdom and since no such information had presented itself he just shook his head. His mother shooed them away lightly and looked at Francis, her indigo eyes fixed on him.

"I thought that z'e Kirkland family only 'ad sons…" she whispered, looking at him for explanation.

"Alice said that she was supposed to be keeping her identity hidden…" he replied lightly, looking past her to his father. He was a large man, and was glaring at the empty seat that his son's new bride would occupy soon enough.

"Well…" he grumbled, silencing the other nobles with the mere sound of his voice. "If she turns out to be a man, then she must be _executed_." He looked at Francis, his eyes narrowing slightly.

"Oui, papa, I know…" he sighed.

"Vell, z'e bloodline must be continued." His mother smiled a little, hoping to end the conversation between them. Quite the opposite happened; the conversation turned into a shouting fight, throughout which his mother shouted about "continuing the bloodline" and nothing else. The rest of the nobles, whom there were about fifteen of, continued their previous conversations without the consent of either of the ruling parents. In a nutshell, the dining hall had turned into a scene of near chaos. Francis felt a bit bad though, knowing that Arthur's family would hate him forever if they dared create a child of mixed blood. A sudden silence fell over the nobles at Arthur's entrance, which in turn silenced the argument between father and son and caused the mother to sink silently- unheard- into her seat. A few hushed comment and even compliments were passed throughout the table, and nobody would take their eyes off of her for more than a moment. A few on the younger bachelor noblemen watched her with a sort of hunger, wishing that they had been the ones to get her instead of Francis.

"Mammon, you're going to have to wait. Alice and I have just married and we're not prepared to continue our bloodline yet, alright?" he nearly shouted, startling his two parents. He said it in their language so that Arthur wouldn't understand. Francis gestured for his new bride to take the seat next to his own, ignoring the chatter of the nobles sitting around them.

Arthur had begun to worry a bit when he heard all of their shouting, hoping that it didn't have anything to do with him. The near silence he experienced when he entered the room only scared him a bit, doing nothing for his already frazzled nerves. He gladly took his seat next to Francis, glad to see at least one familiar face in a sea of strangers. When the chattering began anew he glanced around at all of the people, realizing that every set of eyes were fixed on him and shrinking into his seat a little. He wished that he could understand them, although he could tell from their tones and expressions that they weren't angry or upset. Arthur looked to Francis, hoping that he had something reassuring to say but was a bit distressed to find that he too was only speaking the language. He let his eyes shift to the nicely set place in front of him, hoping that if he stared at it long enough he would forget his troubles. He had never been trained to be a host so he didn't know how a proper formal table setting was supposed to look, but of the little he did know he could tell that whoever set this table was a professional. There were at least half a dozen pieces of silverware at each place, and upon examination he found that each piece had a little animal head on it; A lion on each fork, an owl on each spoon, and some other creature that he couldn't identify on the knife. The plates were edged with gold, and a couple of wine glasses sat next to the plate. The only major difference he saw between this and any setting he had seen before was that there was no water glass. This question stuck in his mind for a while until he glanced cautiously around the room, realizing that almost everyone in the room was old enough to drink wine- with the unintentional exclusion of him. As he saw others already more than halfway through their wine and already getting more, he felt a bit obligated to at least taste his own. The taste caught him off guard, as he had never had any alcohol except for that which was given to him by his older brother when he was much younger. Wine, unlike rum or ale, had a very strong taste. He had never really been fond of grapes. He was only able to drink a small amount of the darker-colored wine, blinking a bit and gingerly setting the glass down. He looked at Francis's parents, startled when he noticed his mother watching him. She took her napkin out of the bowl in front of her and set it in her lap, as if she intended for Arthur to see her do so. He slowly copied her, looking to her for approval and receiving a small smile from the woman. When the food was finally set down he could only stare for a little while. He had no idea what any of it was. Everything looked foreign and delicious to him, especially since he hadn't eaten in ages. If he hadn't been hoping to gain the respect of some of these people he would have taken as much of whatever looked the best and shoveled it down, but instead he watched Francis and took a slightly smaller amount of whatever he had. He heard a light giggle and looked up. Francis's mother had noticed his conduct, smiling at him a little as if telling him not to worry about it so much. He forced a small smile back, feeling like an insect in a room full of giants; that he would be stepped on at any moment. He was glad that Francis's father didn't seem to be watching him at least, and he moved a little closer to Francis as the meal went on. The food was delicious. While nobody else at the table seemed to notice, Arthur was almost sure that there had to be some kind of magic in the food to make it so good. That, or his standards for "food" had been dramatically lowered. "Everything tastes amazing…" he whispered, wondering if anyone there spoke his language besides Francis.

Francis smiled a little at Arthur, taking an opportunity while answering someone's question to reach under the table and lightly touch his arm. "I'm so very glad that you enjoy it… I figured that you would be starving and tired after the ceremony…" he chuckled. Most of the people trying to start up a conversation with him asked simple questions which could usually be answered with a simple "Non" and a shake of the head, but seeing as Arthur seemed reluctant to speak he almost wished that he was willing to speak to any of these people. He gently nudged Arthur, drawing his attention for a moment. "After this, you may go see the tower and then meet me in _our_ room. Just don't mess with anything, okay? Spill a potion and they'll snap your neck!" He laughed a little and snapped his fingers dramatically as if to emphasize his point. He sighed happily, letting his thoughts fall back to his new wife; of how stunning she looked, and of how she always seemed to have a sort of darkness in her mood, as if she his some great, dark secret and didn't wish to show it. After a good while longer of eating, drinking, and talking, a cake was wheeled out on a small cart. It was a lovely wedding cake which had been saved specially for the feast. It was frosted white with small swirls and other designs on it, as well as tiny sugar roses of pink. A moderately-sized piece was cut for Francis and Arthur, which Francis simply cut into two pieces. "Some of our best bakers made this… they've rehearsed the recipe so many times that they all know it by heart." He chuckled, poking his fork into the cake. It was so spongy that it was difficult to actually get a bite off of the cake without making it too large or too small. It was sweet and light, reminding him of the kiss he had given Arthur during the wedding ceremony. As the scent of cake met him he felt like he was inhaling freshly-baked heaven, and his eyes fell to Arthur so that the view of his own angel would complete the sensation.

Arthur's eyes widened hungrily when he saw the cake. He took only a small bite at first, still wanting to be seen as polite. He decided that there was definitely some kind of magic being used on the food that made it so good. He hadn't had cake since his fifth birthday, and that was over a decade past. If there was any upside to the entire horrid situation, it would probably be being treated like a royal again. He knew that he would probably have to learn their language if he ever hoped to communicate with these people, but for now he was content to simply listed to their chattering on without him as he ate his cake. The cake was gone all to quickly, drawing a small sigh from Arthur. He looked at Francis for a moment and stood up, pecking a polite kiss to his cheek before scurrying out of the room before the heat rose to his cheeks. He stopped at their bedroom for only a moment to change his shoes- not wanting to raise suspicion by wearing out these new ones- and then finding his way back to the courtyard. He ran to the tower once it was in view, but with every step he slowed down a little. Dozens of beautiful plants were planted throughout the courtyard, but the closer and closer he came to the tower the stranger they seemed to become; roses of a dozen colors on one bush, flowers that shrank away from him as he passed, and some that seemed to watch him. He looked up at the tower, suddenly taking in how enormous it was and how very tiny he felt next to it. He felt a churning of sickness in his stomach but he stopped it, not wanting to turn back yet. He only managed a few steps before feeling his foot catch on something, most likely a mischievous plant of some kind. He tripped, giving a small cry of surprise as he fell face-first to the ground in front of the tower. "Ow…" he grumbled, pulling himself back up. He heard what almost sounded like tiny, tiny giggling, but he ignored it. He looked around worriedly to see if anyone had seen him fall, but with the dark clouds beginning to take their place above the castle it seemed that most had gone inside. He gulped, his eyes darting back to the tower. He started walking to it slowly again, staring up at it the entire time.

Francis smiled a little as his new wife left, adoring how she could even run gracefully. He made his way back up to their room, and seeing that Arthur had already gone to the tower he decided to take a short nap. He removed his clothing until he was left in nothing but his dress shirt and pants before flopping onto the bed.

The various inhabitants of the tower were laughing and singing and some even danced, all seemed to be celebrating the wedding if not a dozen other things at once. All of the kingdom's most intelligent- and most cheerful- people seemed to have gathered there. The head magician, a man capable of any feat of magic that could be imagined, seemed to have a place of honor among all of them. He reunited lovers, cured the deadliest of illnesses and ailments- even old age, as was obvious by his own appearance- and dozens in not hundreds of other things. Although he looked to older than twenty or so, he was rumored to be as old as written time. From a third story room he heard someone running toward the tower and excused himself from his current activity, going to find out who the mysterious visitor was. By the time he made it to the first floor he was quite out of breath from running down stairs, taking a moment to catch his breath before opening the large wooden door for Arthur. "'Ello!" he laughed a bit. So much running could really make one breathless. Without any warning or invitation he pulled Arthur inside, leading him to an unoccupied but ordinary looking room. "Ah, Arthur Kirkland…" he smiled a bit at him. He would liked to have said that he knew Arthur's name because he was magic and all that, but he had really learned it from the boy's younger brother while administering his medicine. "What ills you? What are you looking to change?" He looked him over, sitting him down. "Tell me and I will help you become your desire." He leaned in a bit closer and smiled at Arthur, hoping to give him some comfort in this leisurely place.

Arthur opened his mouth to speak but stopped, staring into the man's eyes for a moment. _How did he know his name? Did he know everyone? Did everyone know that he was secretly male?_ He gulped, his face paling visibly. "I-I, uh… w-well, F-Francis, um… everyone th-thinks that I'm a woman, b-but… I-I'm not." He whispered, glancing around in terror as if he expected someone to jump out at any moment. "I-I was worried, scared even of what I-I was going to d-do, b-but Francis told m-me that… th-that there were w-wizards, a-and alchemists here, a-and I was wondering i-if you had anything th-that could t-turn me into a w-woman…" He felt silly just listening to his own words. The Green Kingdom had never put much stock in magic, especially something that seemed like a sort of magical luxury, but Arthur had no other option. "I-is there anything that y-you can do?" he looked at the man desperately. He was beginning to feel dizzy, and since he had no idea that they were only three stories above the ground compared to the thirty-three that the tower stretched, he found the air to be much thinner than it really was.

The magician frowned a bit. "Well, why haven't you just told Francis yet to see if he accepts it? He's wanted to marry a man since the beginning after all…" He found it absurd that Arthur actually wanted to become a woman since he had been forced into the dress in the first place. "You must give me a reason to do this Arthur. If it is merely for appearance and because you want Francis to accept you, I can do no such thing." People only came for such a thing when they wanted it for themselves, and in their heart they needed to be the other gender. "Arthur is this because of the bloodline affair? It's an outwritten tradition, and I fully understand, but why would you want this? I know inside you want to leave and marry a nice girl and have it done that way, but this is serious and you need to explain."

Arthur bit his lip hard enough to make it bleed, although he hardly noticed. "I… I-I'm never _going_ to meet a nice girl…n-not now" he felt like crying. This man wasn't going to help him. He was going to be killed because of his gender, and Francis… Francis would hate him. "I-I'm never going to have a family if I d-don't do this… m-my own family is l-long gone, a-and everyone i-is expecting m-m-me to carry on th-the bloodline so th-they wouldn't l-let us adopt a child, a-and… I-I want a family of m-my own..." he choked back a sob and hid his face in his hands. He thought of little Peter, how he had felt more like the boy's mother than his brother at times when they had been forced to hide in the deepest dungeons of their own castle to escape capture, how even now he would have dreams of the sweet little child and would often wake up to find that the boy had curled up next to him in his sleep. "P-please… i-if I can't d-do this, I-I fear I m-may never have a family again…" He was begging now, but he had already lost hope for the situation.

The man listened to his story, his mouth agape. "Arthur… you know that all of this can be settled if I just give you the ability to bear children, alright? You'll still get to be yourself, nothing else will change. I thought that you were a woman when I first saw you…" he sighed, smiling a little. "You'll still be a man, nothing more will happen. All that will change is that you'll be able to have children... Although, I am sorry that you're being forced into this. I was married for nearly ten years before my wife and I decided to have children." He gestured up to the ceiling where people could be heard singing and dancing, presumably his wife among them. "It's all that I will do for you Arthur, there's no reason for you to be forced to change gender in all of this." He knelt in front of Arthur, removing the trembling hands from his face and looking into his eyes. "But you must tell me, are you sure that this is what you want? If you go through with it, it can never be undone…" he said seriously.

Arthur nodded, looking at him hopefully. "Y-yes, it is… please, do whatever you can." He smiled, the tiniest spark of hope shining in his eyes. He knew that Francis might still get mad at him when he found out about his lying, but if this was the closest he could get then he would take it. His heart fluttered lovingly at the thought of a little Peter of his own, one that would never be taken away from him and that would still continue the Bonnefoy's stupid bloodline. He would have rather become a full woman, even if it would be strange and hard to get used to, and it would have crushed his suspicions. But if what the magician said was true and Francis had really wanted a man all along, maybe this really was the better option. "C-can we do it now though? H-he's expecting me back any moment…" he mumbled, his cheeks pinking again.

The magician was much relieved that Arthur had decided to take the option he had given to him, seeing as this would take much less time and pain with more immediate results. He removed a spell book from a large bookcase in the corner of the room, placing his thumb on Arthur's neck and murmuring some words. There was a sort of harmony between them, and Arthur slowly started to relax under the man's touch. The spell was all very natural and quick, and it seemed over all too quickly as the magician chanted some final words and sprinkled some ground herb over Arthur for good measure. There was a quick clinking sound and he stopped, smiling a little. "How do you feel?" he asked. He knew that Arthur would probably just say that he felt no difference, but the man had to be sure. He hadn't performed the procedure in such a long time, and he knew that it was vitally important that Arthur leave the tower unharmed. "It's sure to work and once it...happens...You can always see me again for health advice or anything else." He had always been quite fond of the Kirkland family, having lived in their kingdom before the war or the current generation started.

In the castle, Francis had awoken and was pacing back and forth in their room. He had been a bit worried when he woke up and Arthur hadn't come back yet, beginning to panic.

Arthur hopped up, hugging the magician tightly before running from the tower. "Thank you!" he laughed a bit, running from his room and through the courtyard- careful not to trip this time- and into the castle. He stopped suddenly when he reached their room, a sudden nervousness washing over him. He waited only a few moments to catch his breath before straightening himself a bit and stepping into the room. "Francis…?" he whispered, locking the door behind himself. His voice was just the tiniest bit higher, but he didn't notice it at first. He slipped out of his shoes and placed them by the door, his hands shaking a bit as he did so. "I-I'm sorry that I took so long… th-the tower was lovely, although a bit strange…" he looked at Francis and frowned a bit seeing his worry. "Is something wrong?" he asked.

When Francis saw Arthur he ran to him and pulled him into a nearly bone-crushing hug. "Oh, I was so worried, mon petite épouse, you took longer than I thought…" He seemed a bit stressed and on the verge of tears. He thought that she seemed slightly more feminine, although he thought that this was only because she was beginning to get used to being a bride. He pulled Arthur back to the bed with him, hugging him until the storm rolled in and he went to close the curtains so that the storm wouldn't wake them in their sleep. He glanced back at where "Alice" had been sitting. It was now pitch black inside of the room, not even the small amount of light that came through the bottom of the curtains being visible as the sun had just finished setting. Francis returned to the bed and pushed her onto the bed, growling playfully. The needy, uncontrollable lust that Francis had gotten from his father was beginning to take him over. "I need you so very badly, my love… It is our honeymoon." He begged. He pulled lightly at her dress, wishing desperately that it was already off.

Arthur was a bit afraid at the sudden lack of vision, and Francis acting like a maniac, but he realized that it could be used to his advantage and acted like he wasn't bothered by his sudden forcefulness. "G-goodness, unless y-you want to d-destroy the dress we'll n-need to unbutton it from the back first…" he whispered. He had no real concern for the dress, but he did somehow find a liking for the desperate begging. It made him feel as though he had a sort of power over the other. He turned himself over a bit to make Francis undo the buttons, taking pleasure in giving the other a hard time. "I'm sorry, I can't reach them myself…" he whined helplessly, trying not to laugh a bit. He reached back for Francis's hand, giving it a small squeeze as he found it and guiding it slowly to his back. He leaned forward and felt a slight lurching in his middle, wishing that he hadn't eaten so much food earlier. It had all been so good, he simply couldn't help himself. He turned his head back, not bothering to fake a desperate look when he knew it wouldn't be seen.

Francis felt his face grow hot as he allowed Arthur room to turn around. He undid the buttons in mere seconds, being used to undoing the backs of dresses by now. He threw the dress aside, removing his own dress shirt with it before moving onto Arthur's corset. Francis had removed his earlier before he had taken his nap. After what felt like half an eternity he was able to toss Arthur's corset aside. He turned the Green prince back around and placed a hand on his side, letting it work its way down to the remaining piece of clothing; the smaller skirt worn under the golden dress. "Mmm… even when it's dark, I can tell that your body is lovely…" he murmured. He leaned in a bit closer and kissed along his jaw line, his hand caressing Arthur's thigh. He failed to notice anything strange about "her" yet, not even her completely flat chest. He began to remove the skirt slowly, stopping only a moment to process the fact something _felt_ off, but he ignored it and moved on. Once Arthur's skirt was off he removed his own pants, leaving them both in nothing but the final garment that covered the more… vital area.

Arthur smiled a bit nervously, although glad to have the heavy corset off after wearing it all day. Most of what Arthur heard was rustling of cloth so he assumed that Francis had taken his clothes off as well. He was all too relieved that he couldn't be seen, enough daring welling up in him to make him sit up and kiss Francis. As he did so he felt his last bit of clothing start to slip away under Francis's hands, drawing a soft moan of protest from Arthur. He had secretly been a bit thankful for the last bit of covering, regardless of the fact that it had been women's underwear. His legs were trembling slightly, and he tried to find any possible way to stall for time. Truth be told, he wasn't ready to do this yet. Granted he had done it dozens of times before, those times had always been forced on him suddenly and painfully and having been his first- and only- experience, he was a bit afraid of what was to come. He almost wished that he really had been turned into a woman, even if it was just so they could turn the lights on. He felt Francis's hand working its way lower and he gave a squeak of surprise, deepening the kiss to distract him. Anything. Anything to delay what was already so sure to come.

Francis kissed back at first, but was startled by the small cry from Arthur. "Are you alright?" he whispered against Arthur's lips, pulling Arthur into his lap with his legs spread apart. He thought that maybe his new wife just wanted a few minutes of simple affection before going any further, to which Francis was happy to oblige. He pulled Arthur into a deep kiss, exploring the deep cavers beyond his soft, pink lips, slowly pushing Arthur against the bed again. He could feel himself becoming more and more restless as he pulled the white ribbon from his hair, tossing it aside carelessly. He almost roughly moved Arthur's hips into position, continuing the kiss for a few more moments as the final article of clothing was removed from his own body. He gave Arthur no warning before pushing into him, gripping his hips tightly. He noticed almost no difference between this and his practice with the ever-so-willing maids, although he swore he felt something strange he chose to ignore it. He pulled all of himself into Arthur at once, using all of his strength to do so over and over until the mattress began to creak from Arthur being pounded into it so many times. If he had known Arthur's true gender he would have been much gentler, but as he saw "Alice" as his wife he felt the need to show his love to her. He had hoped that it wouldn't bother "Alice", but seeing that she was so clearly infertile he figured that there was no risk in any of it. Nothing could possibly happen.

Arthur's hands clenched the bed sheets tightly. It took every bit of willpower he had within him to keep himself from screaming in pain. He _had_ to do this. He _had_ to. He tried to keep telling himself this in his mind, but with every jolt of pain the thought was cut off until his mind was nothing but a blur. His heavy panting kept his gasping and sobbing from being heard. This was awful. Not even his time in the military camps had been as bad as this. He tried to scream in pain, scream to make Francis stop, but all that came out was a pained squeak. When Francis finally slowed to a stop, Arthur lay curled up and trembling with a sheet pulled up over his feet. His eyelids twitched a bit, a sign that he was still alive, and he reached a trembling hand down to pull the sheet up a bit more. He tried to bring himself to force a small smile but couldn't. "F… F-Fra…" he breathed.

Francis had been able to keep at it for at least another half hour before stopping, not seeming to notice that he was hurting Arthur. He mistook the squeaks of pain for those of pleasure. He only stopped because he finally felt a familiar warm churning in his stomach, slowing a bit as the sticky liquid seeped from Arthur's entrance. He pulled himself from Arthur and smiled a bit, panting softly. He leaned in closer to press a kiss to his wife's cheek, feeling tears against his lips but mistaking them again for tears of delight. A soft moan rose from Arthur's lips and Francis chuckled. "Je t'aime …" he said softly, pressing a kiss to her lips. Their lips were pressed together for only a moment before Francis frowned a bit, noticing that the other wasn't kissing him back. His mind went blank for a moment, and suddenly he snapped to the reality of what he had done. "A-Alice! I-I…" he laid by her and wrapped his arms around her, holding her tightly. "I didn't mean to hurt you, desole… I'm so sorry. Please be alright. I lost control and couldn't stop-" And suddenly he did stop, the full force of his exhaustion hitting him at once and causing him to suddenly fall unconscious next to his wife.


	3. No more secrets

Arthur sighed, sitting at the foot of the bed and just watching Francis sleep for a while. It was morning now, and the scent of tea and sex lingering in the air. A servant had brought them breakfast a short time ago and the unfamiliar sound had roused Arthur from his sleep. Luckily he had woken up hungry, so he didn't have the heart to complain. He sighed and munched on a piece of fruit, something he hadn't had in a very, _very_ long time. Once the maid left Arthur let his gaze fall back to the golden-haired lump under the blankets, snubbing him and biting into the fruit as if he were biting Francis himself. He glanced at himself in the mirror. His short hair was tousled and tangled carelessly, the makeup covering his various scars and bruises had been rubbed away, and… well, let's just say that Francis may have made a bit of a mess. He shivered, having nothing on himself except a blanket that he had thrown on when the servant came in. He set the breakfast tray aside, tossed the blanket aside, stood up, and immediately regretted it. He was still horribly sore from the previous night, taking some time to ease into a standing position as not to fall over completely. Even when he could walk he found himself stumbling to the wardrobe, digging around in it a moment before pulling out a long bathrobe that went down to his knees and slid off of his shoulders a bit. He figured that it was probably something of Francis's but he didn't care, tying the string carefully before peeking out into the hallway. He managed to get the attention of a servant girl nearby and asked her where the bathroom was. She smiled at him knowingly and winked, leading him down the hallway. Arthur was sure that she knew what he wanted, but he wasn't sure of whether or not he should be insulted as to _why_ she knew. He sighed, thanking her as he entered the bathroom. The room itself was huge, much bigger than any bathroom he had ever seen. There was large wash basin in one corner, big enough to comfortably seat two small children and possibly to wash a baby in. The bathtub it self was nearly ridiculous in size, and was big enough to seat at least two people if not perhaps a person and a half. It was also about halfway sunken into the floor, although he could tell that this was a design choice which meant that is probably had heated water in it. It took him a moment to figure out how to work the water faucets, as they weren't exactly a common thing even in the homes of royals, and when he finally did he was so startled by the rush of hot water that he struggled as much to turn it off as he had to turn it on. By the time he did get the water to stop the tub had filled about halfway, giving off a lot of steam and covering the large mirrors that dotted the walls. He sighed, undressing himself and waiting a while for the water to cool before sinking into the water. He frowned a bit at how much space was still in the tub, hoping that he had remembered to lock the door in case Francis woke up and wanted to join him. Francis… He frowned, kicking his foot and making a slash in the water. As angry as he was at the man about the previous night, he was still a bit afraid of facing him. He growled, hiding his mouth under the water. "Th-that idiot…" he muttered, making a few bubbled as he spoke. Arthur decided that he would avoid him all day if he could, but would at least try to enjoy himself if he did.

Francis woke up very slowly, lying in bed for a while with his eyes closed until he realized that his dear Alice was no longer there with him. He sat up a bit and stretched his arms, glancing around himself. The bed sheets were tangled together, tossed over each other, and a large, gaping tear in the mattress that had been made during his and Alice's lovemaking the previous night. Their dinner clothes were littered around the floor, most of it flung carelessly aside. Francis climbed out of bed and picked up his dress shirt from the previous evening, slipping it on. He was still a little sore and quite hazy, not even noticing the extra padding in Arthur's corset. He stumbled back to the bedside to put his shoes on and to look at his little plan book, smiling a bit. He had a free day today. There would be no work, no fuss, and no rush to get his butt downstairs for a rushed breakfast. He went to the vanity and tied his hair up with a blue ribbon, noticing the breakfast tray sitting by the bed. It had been made obvious that Arthur had eaten his half and left, no doubt just to be away from him as soon as possible. Francis ate his own breakfast and walked to the window, looking outside. The capitol city surrounding the palace had long since woken up, and people were already bustling through the streets. The traders were showing off the things that they had gotten from other far-off lands, children played in the streets, running aside whenever a carriage came by. It was as sweet sight to see, and if he were only younger he might ask if he could go join them. He soon got bored of simply watching them though, finishing his breakfast and wandering downstairs to the music room. A piano and a harp sat in one corner, along with a few long rows of chairs with an instrument at each. He went to the piano, seeing as it was the only instrument in the room that he could play, and opened the song book to the seventh page. It was a song he knew by heart, one that a nobleman from a far-off land had taught him to play. He played the song continuously for about an hour before his hands cramped up and he remembered that he still had no idea where Alice was. He went around asking the servants if they had seen her until he came to one that said that she had gone to take a bath, although of course by the time Francis got to the bathroom she was long gone.

Arthur had come and gone from their room, changing into a looser green silk dress rather than a large hoopskirt like the ones he'd been wearing all of the previous day. He had now decided to see if there was a library he could hide in, somewhere that he wouldn't have to worry about Francis bugging him for more love. After several minutes of searching based on the directions of a mute child servant- god knows why he worked here- he did, at last, find his place of refuge. It took him another couple of moments to marvel at the sheer quantity of books. The room itself was nearly as large as the dining room. Not only did the shelves go to the ceiling- which was a good seven feet from the top of Arthur's head- but they were also stocked so full of books that it appeared that they had run out of space to put them all, stacking them in corners or next to the shelves. Arthur felt that having not seen a book in ages that he would simply look at them for a while, walking between the shelves and smiling a bit to himself until he found a quiet, undisturbed corner of the room. He soon found the reason why it was so void of people; all of the books were in his own language, not the one anybody here spoke or read. He settled on the ground next to a shelf and picked up a book that lay on the floor, opening it. The sudden rush of words to his eyes took some getting used to, although once he remembered how to read he realized that he was on the copyright page. He frowned a bit and turned to the first real page of the book, taking about four minutes to read the first chapter before he decided that the book was horridly dull and looking at the shelf for something more entertaining. He spent quite a bit of time just looking at all of the books. So many old and new ones, books that he had seen when he was young and entire trilogies that he had never heard of. Had he really been locked away for so long that an entire trilogy could be written in that time? He sighed, taking up a book with a strange but interesting picture on the cover and moving to take a seat by the door.

Francis checked their bedroom first, glad to see that their room had been cleaned up. The maid had even fixed the tear in the mattress that Arthur created while scratched at it in pain, and the small bit of blood that had been on the sheets. He went to their wardrobe and picked out a fine gray vest, pulling it over his dress shirt. It felt strange being a husband, as un-husband-like as he had been acting. He decided that he would go talk with some of the bachelor noblemen, whom he had considered to be his friends. They weren't as wildly fun as the people in the magician's tower, but they played bets and dealt cards and acted in the way that gentleman would. His father had wanted him to be friends with them, and so he at least tried to act friendly. He found them sitting at a table in one of their rooms playing a card game, none of them looking up when he came in. "Desole…" he muttered.

"Sorry? Says the man that leaves his newlywed wife alone in the library. You'll have to be careful Francis, or else we might have to take her for ourselves." A ripple of laughter passed through the group of men, all of whom laughed except for Francis. He simply stomped off toward the library in search of his wife. When he arrived there he was a bit surprised to see her sitting by the entrance, so absorbed in her book that she didn't even seem interested in him. Francis wished that he shared her passion for books, having spent a good deal of his time at parties and with his unmarried friends to get anywhere near even a single page. He went to another shelf and found his favorite book, a play that his mother used to read him on occasion. He found a seat not too far from Alice's, opening to the first page and smiling a little at the first familiar words. The love interest of the main character reminded him so much of Alice that whenever he looked up he couldn't tell if he was daydreaming or not, unable to tell whether it was the character or just Alice sitting so very close to him. He read on to his least favorite part, letting the book fall from his hands with a thud.

Arthur jumped, startled by the sudden noise. He looked around for the source and froze when he saw Francis. His face paled. Where had he come from? He hadn't seen him come in. He picked up his book and walked briskly past him, hiding behind one of the shelves. He looked around, spotting another seat in the corner. His first thought was of course to sit _in_ the chair, but he decided that since he didn't want Francis to see him that he would sit _behind_ the chair. He nestled himself in the small space between himself and the corner, smiling a bit. Cramped as it was, there was enough room for him to hide somewhat comfortably from Francis for a little while. He opened his book again and started to read. The familiar words took him back to the days of his childhood, before he had been married or imprisoned or before Peter had even been born. Arthur had been the youngest child of the at the time four brothers, and he had gotten more attention from his mother and nanny than his brothers did- not that they really cared, but it always made him feel special. The voice of the kind older woman reading the story to him brought the characters to life before him. He enjoyed this feeling of youth, of freedom, of happiness for only a few moments longer before he blinked, and it was gone. He frowned a bit and peeked out from behind the chair, fearing that Francis had seen him.

Francis still sat shaking in his own chair, not even noticing when Alice ran past him. It was the part of the story in which the mayor took pity on a sweet little servant girl, doing all in his power to adopt her himself and give her all that she wanted. Francis always hated this part because he was reminded of his father and their non-existent relationship. They fought almost constantly when he was a child, and Francis always, _always_ lost those fights in some way or another. While Alice enjoyed her story as far from him as she could get he sat there dreading his own, tears falling from his eyes and not even bothering with his cheeks before falling to the ground. Then he realized what he had done to Alice. He had _hurt_ her, even after having promised her parents that he would keep her safe. He stood up, leaving the book where it lay in the floor and looking for her, whispering her name softly until he found her. He found himself smiling when he saw the cover of the book, although it broke his heart to think that this was the first time that he had seen her smile. Without even a single word he ran to her side, collapsing next to her and pulling her into a tight hug, crying and begging her to forgive him for being such a horrible idiot. He held her close and sobbed and cried that he would never hurt her again.

Arthur nearly jumped out of his skin when Francis attacked him with his sudden, strange affection. He sat in shock for a few moments before hearing the sweet words mingled with loud sobbing, frowning a little and deciding not to push him away just yet. He really wasn't sure whether or not he could trust him, especially after last night. He wasn't even sure that he was ready to talk to him again yet. If it weren't for the safety of his family being on the line he probably would have run away by now. His hand placed itself gently on Francis's hair, although Arthur shrank away from him a little bit. "I-it's okay…" he murmured, hoping to provide some form of comfort to the man. He couldn't think of anything more meaningful to say. He couldn't tell him that it wasn't his fault, or that it hadn't been so bad of him, but both of those things were horrid lies. "It… it's okay, b-but can we maybe n-not do it again for a while…? Please…?" He asked hopefully. The thought of the magician's words came to his mind again, but he shivered a bit and hoped that they hadn't gotten quite _that_ far. He wasn't ready for a child yet. He pulled Francis's face up so that their eyes met, giving him a sweet but utterly fake smile. "It's okay…"

Francis held her close for as long as he could, still sobbing and choking a bit. "I-I'm never going to hurt you again... I-I'm never going to let anything h-happen to you… I-I'm so sorry Alice, it w-was all my fault, I-I just couldn't control myself…" His voice had started to get louder, but quieted again when he heard her request. "A… a while?" It was almost an insult to make such a request of a member of the Red royal family, as they were known especially for their romance and passion. "I… I'm not sure… I will be more gentle next time." He whispered, pressing a soft kiss to Arthur's neck and pressing a finger to his lips. "Shh… Let's not let something like this tear us apart, oui? It's just going to be the two of us together in our new life, and we will always have each other. I can show you my love for you every day, and I will never, _ever_ hurt you again." He sighed softly. "Just the two of us…" He continued to just hold her there for a while, pressing them closer and closer together until he could hear that her breathing was becoming a bit labored and he loosened his grip, leaving her to read her book. He got his chair from before and pulled it up next to hers, scooping her up and placing her in her chair before finally getting back to his book. He skipped many pages before he got to a part he liked; the young girl had grown into a beautiful woman and had met the love of her life, although she had been taken away from him only days before they were to be wed. It was a bit sad, but it reminded him of his own beautiful Alice.

Arthur sighed and picked up his book, staring at the page but not really reading it. He felt as though Francis hadn't listened to him at all, making silly promises that were sure to be forgotten and still wanting to get "Alice" in bed with him. It sickened Arthur. If this kind of thing went on, he would request a separate room. Hell, he would sleep on the floor if he had to, anything to escape another awful night like the previous one. He turned his chair away from Francis's in hopes of keeping the worry evident in his expression hidden. He couldn't believe that he had been so stupid as to let himself want this man's child. How could he have done this to himself? Their poor child… he glanced down at his belly, swearing that he saw a difference that wouldn't come for another few months. He groaned and pulled his book over his face. Not even the comforting voices in his head made him feel better now, which had just a short time ago helped him to forget all of his troubles. He felt tears prickling in his eyes and decided that he didn't even want to cry anymore, standing up and stomping back to the shelf where he had found his book at first. He sat down to place it on the low shelf but couldn't bring himself to stand up again, fearing that if he did Francis would notice him and just follow him again. He simply sat there, curled up against the bookshelf, crying softly to himself.

Francis sighed to himself, knowing that his story was about to become sad again. He glanced up at Arthur as he started to leave, although he swore that he saw tears in his eyes as he left. He frowned and stood up. He wanted to follow Arthur, but seeing him sit there and cry just broke his heart. He wanted to try and comfort her, to run to her side and wrap his arms around her and tell her that everything would be okay, but he knew that no matter what he did she would be unhappy and push him away and cry more and everything would be worse than when it started. A small sigh escaped his lips. Maybe they did need some time apart… although he knew that if they were apart for a while, it would likely be a long while. He took a few steps toward her and pecked a kiss to her cheek. "I-I'm going to leave you be for a while…" he whispered, starting back for the door to the library. He had no idea what to do, wandering the castle for what felt like hours before finding his way out to the gardens. He found a clearing surrounded by hedges and rose bushes and sat there, running his hands through his hair to help himself relieve some of his stress. He felt like he would do anything to make himself a better husband for Alice. He felt as though he had just snapped the previous night and it couldn't be solved. Alice had turned from his sweet, loving wife to this depressed creature that nearly refused to speak to him. She only seemed to be happy when she was doing anything that didn't involve him. He laid down in the grass and closed his eyes, considering going to the tower and seeing if they had some kind of potion or elixir that would magically turn him into a better person, but he sort of thought it a silly idea and gave up on it quickly. He would fix it with his remaining strength, although he didn't even feel strong enough to sit up. In truth, he was just being to harsh and overprotective of his new wife without really thinking of her at all. He couldn't notice the bruises that so obviously littered his flesh. He couldn't listen to her words. He didn't know what she liked, or disliked, or wanted from him. And when he tried to speak to her his words sounded vulgar and he could never think of a truly sweet thing to say. Somehow he thought that maybe something had changed in her, causing her to turn quiet and shy.

After a while of just sitting and crying Arthur found that he had simply run out of tears to cry, and sat sobbing dry tears. He pulled himself up, wobbling a bit as he did so. He had cried away all of his anger until all that was left was a sort of cold, bitter frustration. He wandered slowly through the library, hoping to find some other book to distract him from his brooding mood. Eventually, after quite a bit of wandering, he came across a dusty little corner where the carpet wasn't so worn away and it was so quiet that he could hear the pounding of his own heart. He looked the bookshelves up and down, realizing soon enough that not only were these books not in his language, but they were in a language that he had never heard before. He pulled out a book and flipped it open, going quickly from mild interest to being completely enthralled. Although he couldn't read a word of it, there must have been hundreds of pictures. Most of them were anatomical sketches of creatures that he had never seen before; Serpents with human-like torsos, jackalopes with wings and claws, and some kind of rabbit that also had wings. He closed the book, looking around to see if anyone was watching him and the stowing the book in a space between the shelf and the wall. He would come back for it later. For now, he was excited to go look for one of these creatures himself. He went to a nearby window, rubbed some dust from it, and peered out. It faced the garden, somewhere he was sure that he would find these creatures, but the first thing he saw was Francis laying in the grass. His gaze softened a bit and he gave a heavy sigh. The other looked so upset down there by himself. He wanted to be good to Francis, he really did, but… he was just such a damn _idiot_. He felt somehow that Francis didn't love him any more than he would love another girl, that he was nothing special, and especially that he didn't want to be married to him. A frown spread across his lips and he left the library, deciding that it was time for him and Francis to talk. To really talk, not just for him to cry and be scared of him and hope that he would just understand. "Such an idiot…" he muttered. As he came nearer and nearer to the garden his pace grew faster until he was running, stopping as he reached a hedge bordering the clearing that Francis lay in. He gulped, suddenly frozen. "F-Francis…?" he whispered.

Before "Alice" had found him Francis had been crying, crying as if it were all he was able to do. He felt simply awful. He realized how egotistical and selfish he had been, treating Alice as if she were just like him. She wasn't, he knew that she wasn't, she was so much more and was nowhere even close to him. Even his two closest friends were completely different. He only barely saw her from the corner of his eye, although he thought that it was just his imagination. At least until he heard the soft whisper. His name. He looked up at her. She seemed to be almost hiding behind a hedge shaped to look like a rabbit. "Alice…" he muttered, his gaze falling again. His eyes began to hurt from the tears and he sat up a bit, wrapping his arms loosely around his legs and resting his head on them. "I'm a bit surprised that you even want to talk to me now, after what I've done…" he admitted. "I wanted to believe that you were like be, that there was a piece of me somewhere inside of you, but… there simply isn't." He sighed. He didn't fee like being kind or loving, but he just kept making himself think that it would all be okay, that they were just going through a rough time.

Arthur sighed, taking a seat in the grass next to him. "Francis… y-yes, you were wrong, and you've been kind of an idiot, but…" he smiled a little, hoping to get the other to look at him and brushing a strand of golden hair away from his eyes. "I think that I can try and forgive you." He hesitated a moment, wondering if it would be alright to tell him his secret now. There were no servants around to hear him, and no walls with ears that told Francis where he was at all times and would surely start some gossip had they been inside. "I-I… F-Francis, I think that there's something th-that I need to tell you…" he mumbled._ "No turning back now…"_ He took a shaky breath, preparing himself to give Francis news that could put his own life on the line. He spent a moment trying to collect his thoughts, thinking of what to say and how to say it, taking one of Francis's hands and pressing his lips to it for some kind of comfort. He really wasn't ready for this, but he did feel need to prevent another night like the previous one. "F-Francis, I… I-I might be… w-with child." He stopped, mentally kicking himself for changing his words at the last second. It was true, or at least it could have been with what the magician had done the previous day. He shut his eyes, not wanting to see Francis's expression.

Francis just sat still, eventually looking at Arthur apathetically. "It's not mine, is it?" he mumbled, his face blank. "If it were, you wouldn't be able to tell so early." He held his knees closer to his chest. "This joke really isn't funny Alice…" he pulled his hand away from her and said nothing more. He did so want to believe that what she said was true, that she would be having his child and that he would have a little one to call his own to hold in his arms and laugh with, to brings treats to when he left to town for a while. It had been his lifelong dream to have his own family, and the only thing that conflicted it was his dream of marrying a certain man. He knew that they probably would have adopted, but he would do anything if it gave him a family. Francis's gaze lowered to the ground, finding the grass to be much more interesting than anything Arthur had to say. He felt like his father, telling himself that this just couldn't be _his_ child. Tears of sadness rolled unnoticed down his cheeks. Why did she have to tell him now? If she had only waited it would have been much more convincing. This little story sounded more like revenge for the previous night than anything else.

Arthur frowned, biting his lip. God, he had made things worse than they already were. "I… w-well, I sort of already knew that it would happen. I-I mean, um…" He sighed, taking yet another moment to collect his thoughts and think of exactly what he would say and how he would say it. "W-well, you remember yesterday, wh-when we were looking at that tower a-and you said that I could visit it after dinner if I w-wanted to? W-well, I did, and… I-I asked the m-magician to make it so that we could have children together… a-and, um, w-well at first m-my wish was to h-have my gender changed, b-but the magician wouldn't d-do that, s-so…" he felt tears prickling in his eyes. "F-Francis… I-I'm not Alice… I-I'm not a woman, I'm a m-man…" He looked at Francis, expecting the same uncaring face that he'd gotten before. Why did he have to be such an idiot? Then at least he could have explained it better. He felt a tear roll down his cheek but he ignored it, his hands trembling but moving away from Francis a bit.

Francis listened carelessly to every word, blinking in surprise only when he heard the last word. "A… a man? N-no, that's not possible…" he murmured, trying not to get his hopes up. "I mean, I suppose that I could see you being one, b-but… I…" he sat up a little and stared at him, unsure of exactly how to react to all of it. His wife, or husband rather, was not just carrying his child but was also a man. There were several long, agonizing moments spent in silence as he tried to think of something to say. Then, finally, he leaned in close to Arthur, pulling him into a hug and keeping him there for the longest time possible. If he was telling the truth, then Francis was the happiest man alive. He would have both of his dreams, that of marrying a man and still having a family of his own. "...I'll admit it's odd...But it explains your hips...and...well..." he hesitated a moment. He didn't want to tell of how he had _felt_ something the previous night. "A-and your short hair." He added quickly, grateful that a replacement had presented itself in time. "Oh, c-could you be… C-could you be Arthur? Th-the prisoner boy that… I had fallen for…?" His heart fluttered a bit. Francis had fallen head over heels for Arthur the moment he was first captured, and when the wars finally ended he had cried continuously for nearly twenty-four hours. He had never expected to see him again. "_My _A-Arthur… having… _my _ch-child?" he asked, looking at him and smiling lovingly.

Arthur nodded hesitantly, hugging him back. "Y-yes…" he murmured, his eyes darting away from him. He was shocked that Francis was taking the entire thing so well, and even more shocked that he hadn't left him right there. "And I-I know, everyone thinks th-that I'm d-dead… I-I was sure that I-I would be if I t-told you…" He laughed weakly, looking up at his face. There was a few moment's silence from Arthur before he leaned up and pecked a shy kiss to Francis's lips, then hid his face in the crook of his neck. He hadn't thought that anybody, least of all Francis would fall in love with him with the state he had been in when he was captured. He had been bruised and bloody, starved half to death and nearly unconscious. It was no wonder that he didn't remember ever seeing Francis then. He felt tears in his eyes again, but they were happy tears. Francis wasn't angry with him, he _loved_ him, and They were going to have a child. Arthur's heart fluttered at the thought of a little Peter of his own. He hoped that their child would have blue eyes like Francis's that so reminded him of his sweet youngest brother. He looked up at him, hoping that maybe Francis would change his ways now and be less cruel.

Francis grinned. He had never seemed quite the same since the disappearance of Arthur from his life, and seeing him again in his arms was like a miracle that he had thought to be impossible even when he had still thought him to be alive. The idea of a wedding to him had been like a personal slap in the face from his father, and he had opposed it with all of his heart. Francis held onto Arthur tightly, dulling his tears from dramatic sobs to just a few tears rolling down his cheeks. "F-for so many years, I thought that you were dead…" he mumbled. "I used to go by the dungeons late at night to see you, b-but if you woke up I would always run away… Every night it was like that until I realized… th-that the feeling was love." He looked down at him. "Oh, I wish that you hadn't gone through so much trouble just to try and please me. If you had told me sooner, then… well, last night would have never happened. It would have been sweet, and loving, like real lovers do…" He felt as if they had made up when Arthur gave him the small kiss, his heart fluttering in his chest. So much emotion filled him, and not the kind of forceful or rough love that had taken place before. It was a sweet romance, a sort of _true_ love. He held onto Arthur for a little while longer. "S-so… I-I'm a papa now?"

Arthur chuckled and gave a small nod, trying not to be disturbed by the fact that Francis had watched him in his sleep. "Y-yes… or at least, you're going to be…" his face pinkened a little bit. The full realization that he was having a child suddenly hit him. He wondered momentarily if it would hurt to have a child but dismissed the thought. He would think about it later, when he could stand it better. "I-I, um... I-I'm sorry if I worried you for so long, wh-when I was locked up... I-I didn't know, otherwise I... I might have t-tried to see you." As much as Arthur wanted to think that this was untrue, he knew that he likely would have hidden if he had ever heard or seen Francis. Any unfamiliar footsteps heard in the endless labyrinth of the castle's dungeons were often greeted with either the shouting of insults and curse words, or the scrabbling of feet as they tried to carry themselves as far out of sight as possible. Arthur had been placed in one of the most unfortunate of the cells, being near the entrance with his older brother. Likewise, he had always been made an easy target for torture, target practice, or… well, anything else that the guards could dish out. He shuddered, absently clinging to Francis as he took time to re-bury the awful memories. "Please though, l-let's not ever have a night l-like last night... I-I'm still quite sore from it..."

Francis grinned proudly, although he knew that it would take some time to adjust to the idea of being not only a married man but a soon-to-be father. He hoped that he and Arthur would develop a closer relationship due to this… child. He wasn't sure how he was supposed to feel about it now, but he would do anything to make sure that Arthur was happy through the time spent together. "Merci…" he muttered lightly. "I'm so sorry if it seems odd for me to watch you before. I was making sure the guards weren't hurting you too bad...But...I've seen some things I prefer not to explain." When Arthur held onto him tighter, he gave him a weak smile. "Shhh...I promise...And it _will_ be a while before I actually consider doing something close to that..." The high, shrill screams of Arthur's that he had heard echoed through his mind. He sighed and laid them both lightly in the grass together, still in each other's arms. Last night truly must have been truly awful, and he still felt bad about it. "I'm never going to...I'm never going to hurt you again." He whispered, hugging Arthur more tightly. He thought of Peter, Arthur's own sweet little brother. He hoped that their child would be like him, not like Francis. He worried that their child would grow up scarred with horror and torture and unintentionally hurt the ones he loved. Francis frowned a bit and held Arthur as tightly as he could. "I won't let anything happen to you. Ever."

A small noise rose from Arthur's lips, as it had become difficult for him to breath in Francis's death grip. "A-alright, I-I believe you already… c-can you please let m-me go, it's g-getting hard to breath…" He laughed weakly, his facet turning pink from the lack of oxygen. One of the loose shoulder straps of his dress fell from his shoulders, laying in a way that showed far too much chest area than what would be appropriate for a lady. Lucky for him, he was not a lady, but the pink of his face turned from pink of suffocation to pink of embarrassment, and he tugged at the dress. The light but bright green of his eyes matched the color of the grass perfectly, and the ring on his finger looked like a small, golden flower had perched itself on his hand. He looked almost like a real woman. It was really no wonder that he had been mistaken for one before, as even he himself had stared at himself in the mirror when he had first been put into his wedding dress before realizing that he was staring at his own reflection. He looked at Francis and gave him a coy smile, his eyes darting away shyly. "Heh… l-lovely day, isn't t…?" he mumbled.

Francis let go of him when he realized how tightly he was holding on. "Je suis desole!" He cried, his eyes widening. He hadn't meant to hurt him, but his corrupt thought had been worrying him. He felt heat rush to his face as Arthur's dress dropped from his shoulders, glancing away but pulling it carefully back up for him. The closest he had ever seen to Arthur being completely bare was the previous day when he had dressed him. "It is...This was one of my favorite places to lay in. I used to spend all day in the grass and stare at the tower." He sighed happily, laying on his back and giving Arthur a bit of space. "Arthur, I…" he started, but stopped himself. He wanted to say that he wanted to see what he truly looked like as a man, in proper men's clothing, but was afraid of driving himself back to his former state of lust. "I love you." He said instead, smiling a bit. "I mean, if that's alright…" He stared up at the clouds. After a while of silence he looked at Arthur, deciding that maybe if they just talked more he would come to understand more of his feelings. "Arthur… what are you thinking of right now? What do you feel like?" he grinned a bit, eager to hear tell of his lover's stories. He wasn't one for telling stories, but when it came to listening there was nothing that he would rather do than listen to a good story.

Arthur blinked, a bit surprised by the question. "How it makes me feel…?" he repeated, giving a small sigh. "Well... happy, I guess. I'm still sort of getting to know you, but I think I'm starting to love you too... I mean, I know that this marriage was forced on me, and I hated you at first... I was terrified even. I sort of still am. I'm still trapped here, in the kingdom of my lifelong enemy, surrounded with people who want to hurt me or force me into things that no person should ever be forced into, but... I think I feel a little bit safer now, knowing that I have someone like you who cares enough to protect me..." he blinked, losing his train of thought. "Oh, I-I was rambling wasn't I?" he laughed a bit. "But, it's strange... I still remember the beginning of the war, just barely. I was eight or so I think, my mother was pregnant with Peter... I hadn't really taken the Red Kingdom seriously. It was sort of like one of those storybook villains in a children's story, and I sort of thought that the Green Kingdom was like the good guys, who would always win no matter how the odds were stacked against them. As the war went on, my middle brother Dylan and I were told about every detail by our father... well, every detail except that we were losing. We were so surprised when we were first captured, yelling at the guards and telling them that our army would destroy them. But then, well... after the first year or so, we started losing hope. One of my brothers, Cailean, was beaten to death by the guards... and then a few months later, sometime around Christmas, Dylan got sick and died..." he sighed sadly. "And then... we all sort of died on the inside. Time just went on, we lost track of how long... sometimes we would get news of things that happened. The only thing that kept us going..." he smiled a little, his eyes closing dreamily. "...was Peter. We would all take care of him, and play with him. We escaped at one point and almost lost Peter, but it was a short escape. It was Peter's first time outside, it was... and he was so happy. Even though it was nighttime, and it was so dark outside, he was happy just to be surrounded by so much color. I was eleven by then, and Peter was three. We made it back to the castle and had a sort of celebration, the best one we could scrape together, just us and the few servants who had stayed. The castle was being used as a sort of military fortress, and most of the people who had stayed in the capitol city had hidden there. They were growing food in the gardens or something, and we stayed there for another few years and then... w-well, then the siege happened. It was terrifying, and it all happened in one night. None of us knew what was going on until we heard the door being broken down and we looked outside and there was fire everywhere. It was horrifying really. Peter and I were running to the dungeons to hide, where we had a better chance of not getting hurt... Allistor was trying to fight against the soldiers. It's a wonder he survived really. It's a wonder than any of us did..." he sighed, glancing at Francis. "I... I'm sorry, I'm probably boring you aren't I?"

Francis listened with great interest, picturing everything that Arthur told him as if he ad been in Arthur's very shoes when it had all happened. He could feel the cold, musty night air on his face, and he could almost hear Cailean's final few breaths as sickness slowly took over. "That seems so… depressing." He mumbled, easily letting a smile overtake his expression at the bit about Peter. He thought for a moment of where he would have been at that time. "N-non, your story… it's probably the most interesting that I've heard in a long time. Ah, let's see… Um, when you were eight, that sound like around the time I would have been about eleven. I don't believe I know your age thought…" he chuckled, getting himself back to his point. ""At that time I hardly did anything. Mon papa was training me to be a soldier and to kill everything in sight. He said I needed to be bloodthirsty, and have my limbs made of iron." Francis shuddered in disgust. "Everyday he would train me with a sword and I would always hurt myself no matter what_. I_ hated it. I wanted to be a gentleman and a painter, and _my father_ hated it. He forced me to cut my hair and I...I could hear him call me a girl sometimes. He said I needed to be a man. Then, three years later, I was a knight for a while, and I killed everyone in the village. Blood. Death. Screams...Arthur, I killed _children._" His face was now pale and he was trying very hard not to speak. "Then the next day papa loved me for the first in my life. Even though I went on a rampage and killed that little town on the side of the Grey Kingdom...And that's why they call it a ghost town. Ever heard the myth of the Vicious Knight? That was moi. I just...snapped...and felt like I needed to kill everything and everyone, just..." Francis couldn't speak now and he could hardly even let himself soak that in any longer. "The war had started by then and I helped kill many other people. By the time I was 15 is when I stopped." He softly looked down. "What made me snap was...I...I don't know. I...I'm such a horrible person over it now." Francis couldn't cry since he was too strong for that. "...I...I honestly think it was because my father hated me so many years and because I lost you..." He shook and trembled. "Arthur...I feel like one day I might snap...and kill you and...and..." He couldn't even say the words, 'our child,' as it came out more like a choked cough. "...I honestly don't know how you think of me now."

Arthur was shocked into silence, and a bit of disgust not so much at Francis but at his father. Training his own son to become a killing machine. "W-well…I have to say that I admire your honesty." He said matter-of-factly, taking one of Francis's trembling hands in his own. "And I understand, m-my brother was the same way… w-well, not a killing machine exactly. He'd yell a lot and smack us around a bit, but he never meant any of it. He was fifteen when the war started, and he never liked the way that our father would lie and tell us of how great and powerful our army was and how it would win every battle. Sometimes, especially after Cailean died, he would just sort of explode and yell at the guards, try to attack them… They tried to beat him into submission, but he would never let them. He always fought back, _always_. Dylan and I were so proud of him…" he sighed, smiling a bit. He lightly kissed the band of gold around Francis's finger. "But… I suppose that you aren't quite like either of them, your father or Allistor… you aren't violent at heart. You weren't trained for the war, only to think that it would never come the way he was…" A vague memory rose to Arthur's mind of Allistor complaining, complaining of how the Green Kingdom had almost no reason whatsoever to be attacking the Red, and how he and Dylan would call him a coward and would be chased around the castle by him until they were worn out. "Maybe… all you need it someone to try and love you, someone in the world that makes you want to get up every morning just to see their smile, and to spend time with them…" he sighed, his thoughts drifting to Peter. He still remembered vividly the day that he had been born, the way his tiny blue eyes darted around the cell and how his sweet laughter filled the entire dungeon with hope and life. A few of the men that had been considered war criminals had become their friends that day, and although they were executed soon after they were always considered good if sweet little Peter could smile for them. Peter, who had been the center of all of their lives until they were split up in the attack on the castle. He looked up at Francis and saw Peter's eyes in his for a mere second, looking away quickly. "Erm, i-if you don't mind my asking… h-how old are you?"

Francis's heart fluttered at Arthur's words. "M-merci…Merci beaucoup..." He nearly felt like crying. Arthur could still find heart enough to try and love him, to see past all that he had done and all that he had let himself become and made him out to be something different. He felt amazing, living Arthur's words and clinging to them with all of his heart; All he needed was to love, and be loved. He sighed dreamily as his ring was kissed. "...You know...I have this thing about me...I can never sleep or even go to bed unless someone is next to me...Or in the next room...It's odd Arthur...You see..." He took a hand free and ran it lightly over the other's cheek. "When you love someone very much, you memorize everything about them. Every little sensation or the cute smile they have when they are happy. You memorize their heartbeat and the way they breathe. You memorize their waking moments..." He gave him a little kiss. "My mother says I'm 3 years older than you. However, I've seemed to have forgotten my age. I don't care for birthdays anymore." Francis was actually a bit worried that Arthur would actually _be_ as young as he _looked_. That concerned him a little bit; they had already been married for almost an entire day and they didn't know each other's ages yet.

Arthur wasn't surprised that there was such a difference between their two ages, although he still thought nineteen seemed so mature compared to his own age of merely sixteen. Sixteen was far too young to be married, not that he'd had a choice. "I b-believe that makes you nineteen…" he mumbled. It actually scared him a bit, being married at the age of just sixteen and losing himself even before that. "Although, I don't know much about numbers… even when we had nothing to do but lay around in the summer heat I couldn't teach myself to count above thirty without getting bored…" he frowned a bit. Even now he couldn't count much higher than fifty. He would try to teach Peter to count on occasion, but he would usually end up listening enviously as the boy far passed one hundred before getting jealous and suggesting that they do something else. "I know how you feel, trying to sleep alone... on our first night home in years, after being stuck in a cell together for who knows how long... it was nearly impossible to sleep. I ended up inviting Peter into my bed. He was a bit afraid too, being scared of the dark as he was... we were already sharing a room, but even that seemed like too much space for two people to have for themselves. I think it will be nice, not being locked up again... other than last night, I haven't been in a bedroom in over a year." he hesitated, realizing how strange that sounded and blushing a bit. "S-so, um... wh-what I guess I'm trying to say is, uh... I-it will be kind of nice, I suppose, h-having someone to sleep with..." he mumbled, his cheeks heating up.

Francis felt a little bad for Arthur, having gotten married and pregnant at the young age of sixteen, although the idea of such a thing was nothing unfamiliar to him because some of his own siblings had barely been older than him when they'd started their own families. "Nineteen? I feel old…" he chuckled. "Oh, what I wouldn't do for a little Peter of my own…My parents decided I would be their last child so it's so odd. My siblings envy me and I hate it. But to have this little person who is so innocent and that can make you smile everyday is all I need. He was the first person to smile at me in ages." He sighed happily. "I'm glad to hear that he kept you happy for all of those years, I can tell that it had an effect on you." Francis smiled a bit. He thought it unlikely that the child would turn out exactly like Peter. If anything, he would probably be more like himself and Francis, although he hoped that their child would only keep his eyes and his mostly-loveable side. His hand crept over Arthur's, taking it into his grip. "I don't want to think about it and it keeps plaguing my mind...But...You said Peter was so different, and I know that none of your brothers have blue eyes except for him...Does Peter look like anyone else besides you?" It scared him since he saw a slight little resemblance with him and Peter. "I'm sorry to ask...It's just...Peter...he...It's so hard to explain. I've never seen him before and I think I have. Realizing I'm going to be a father has caused me to think this...But...don't you think...just by how likely it is...this child could be just like Peter?"

…

Hey guys, quick update: Thinking of posting a chapter every Friday/Thursday. Maybe some feedback on that? Thanks.


	4. The Music King- Part 1

Arthur blinked, taking a moment to collect his thoughts and another to process Francis's question before letting himself attempt to reply. "Wh-what do you mean, that Peter…?" He frowned a bit. "N-no… our child won't be like Peter, i-it will have a good life… P-Peter didn't even get to see the outdoors until he was four years old…"

"Non, non, I'm not implying something bad. I'm implying a good thing." Francis tried to smile comfortingly, taking Arthur's hands in his own. "I don't mean to say that it will have a bad life, or something worse, heavens no. I just feel something around Peter...and it's not a brother-in-law way..." He sighed, trying to think of some better wording for it. "He's like a son to me." He pecked a soft kiss to Arthur's lips, hoping to stop the tears that were starting in his eyes. His hand crept over Arthur's stomach, hoping to feel the beginning of a new life. "Calm down amour. Even if our child simply isn't as wonderful as Peter...I...I don't know...It's so odd… I'm in love, cher. I've finally decided I'm going to accept your condition for what it is. This is our own little Peter. We can dedicate it to him and make him the godfather. Because honestly, Arthur…" He hesitated, turning Arthur's face to his own. "As much as I hate to mention your little brother so much...His smile melted my heart of ice...and...I... From now on, I will try to be the best father and husband I can be… for him, for you, pour notre bébé." He smiled a little, kissing the bridge of Arthur's nose.

Arthur stared at him, smiling a little. "R-right…" he mumbled, although his mind had already started drifting into ideas of whether there was something different about Peter than there was from the rest of his brothers. As much as these thoughts persisted, however, he refused to believe them. They were absurd, and even with Peter's unusual eye color that set him apart from all of his family except for Francis- if he counted. He sighed and hugged Francis, in need of a shoulder to cry on should he start doing so. "W-well… if w-we see him ever again, th-then we can tell him, okay?" he smiled a bit. "I-I'm sure that he'll want to see you again… h-he seemed to have taken a liking to you… Heh, I-I remember during the wedding wh-when he ran up and h-hugged us, I w-was so afraid that he was going to call me by m-my real name and ruin everything... it feels like so long since I've seen him, b-but it was really only yesterday..." he sighed. Where was Peter now? Probably in the Blue Kingdom by now, enjoying real food and questioning Allistor as to why Arthur had been wearing such silly clothing the previous day even though the person he was supposed to be married to looked more womanly to him with their long, golden hair. Arthur chuckled, practically able to hear those exact words in Peter's voice. He could only hope that Peter wouldn't ask these questions to his past lover, who resided in the Blue Kingdom. He hoped that they all assumed that Arthur was dead, or that they had been told so. It pained him to wish for such a thing, but in this situation it wasn't like he could just leave Francis. "D-do you think that we'll get to see them again?" he asked, looking up at him hopefully.

"Of course." Francis grinned a bit, leaving behind his loving attitude. "You'll see them on holidays, and even your birthday if you'd like…" he sighed. He looked at Arthur again, somehow feeling that there was sadness in his expression. "I have to say, I'm quite sorry all of this happened. I didn't even want to get married either. I'd stay shut in my room and I didn't want to talk to anyone. Mostly I've been in there alone and sleeping. My dreams were the only things giving me some sort of comfort…." He sat up a bit, staring at something in the distance that was easier on his eyes than looking at Arthur for the moment. "I'm sorry, I'm just not sure how to feel right now… You're… well, you're my spouse, and I hardly know anything about you. I've sort of rushed everything on you and now, if anything, you're probably stressed out…" He looked at Arthur, who looked anything but stressed out although possibly a little afraid. "I… I need some time alone…" he muttered, pulling himself up and running off to who knows where. In truth he felt like he needed a quiet place to think on his own, to collect his thoughts, to let himself face the reality that had been so violently thrown into his and Arthur's faces. Hell, he had ruined Arthur's life _himself_ when all he wished for the other was for him to be happy, back in his own home with his own family with no war, no prison, no unhappiness to tear them apart, but it was far too late for that. Now there was a list of deaths following behind him that was over a mile long and in one night alone he had destroyed Arthur's life. He had torn him from his family, womanized him until just a few minutes ago, and had given him a child that he probably didn't even want. He knew that he would have to apologize to Arthur- to _really_ apologize- but he had done plenty of that for now and it would all sound as pointless as his other apologies had sounded. His heart was pounding, not only from his stressful thoughts but also from all of the stairs he was climbing on his way back up to his and Arthur's bedrooms. He was in that very hallway when he stopped, finding a room with plain white walls. He looked around in it, finding that it was blissfully empty and taking a seat inside against the back of the door. He was sure that it wouldn't be easy, but he would think of some way to help Arthur through the whole 'baby' thing, and he'd be damned if he didn't.

Arthur sighed, strangely disappointed by his decision to leave so suddenly. He thought that if Francis wanted his turn to take some time alone, then he may as well give it to him. Besides, the garden- although saturated in red flowers- was very nice, although he could see that the sun would be setting in only a few hours so if he was going to explore it, he may as well do so now. Arthur picked a direction and set off, exploring a bit. He soon found that even so far away from the tower, magical plants dotted the grounds. He found one tree with fruits that looked a bit like crosses between peaches and tomatoes, but glowed with a warm, fiery light. Upon tasting one he found that the strange light could be felt hen it hit his stomach, which was a bit strange but undeniably comforting. He continued his little exploration until his feet hurt and he was sure that he was being followed by some invisible entity before making his way back to the castle. He felt like such an outsider, entering it on his own. Like he might get in trouble for being without Francis. He knew that he wouldn't, being a resident there now, but he still felt so very out of place in the endless hallways. At first he tried asking any of the servants if they had seen Francis but when all of them replied with "Hasn't he been out in the gardens with you, princess?" he simply sighed and thanked them for their time. After several of these responses he began to become a little worried, his walk speeding to a near run as he tried to navigate his way through the castle. _"God, why did the damn thing have to be so big? And why does every single damn hallway have to look like every other one?"_ When he finally stopped it wasn't to finally reach the room but to catch his breath, leaning against a wall. He felt a bit dizzy, swearing that he could hear the very walls whispering his name. After he had caught his breath he realized that although it wasn't the walls doing it his name was definitely being called from somewhere. He looked around a bit before seeing what looked like the entrance to some secret passage, and inside were a few of the young noblemen that he had seen the previous night at the party. When he looked at them they beckoned him closer. He took a few cautious steps closer, looking at them. While he wasn't sure that it was entirely safe to be with them he knew that they were friends of Francis's and that they might know where he was. Before he could ask them if they knew- to which they probably wouldn't have responded, seeing at they didn't speak his language- he was grabbed by the arm by one of them and was dragged into the secret passage. While this did surprise and even startle him a little he followed them, hoping to see Francis again soon.

Francis, eventually sorting out his thoughts with his usual "I'll think about it tomorrow" plan and letting his mind wander a bit, had begin to wonder about the room he sat in. It had no furniture to speak of and had never been used for a bedroom. He had heard rumors though, a sort of legend among castle-goers, that the noblemen often used the room for their not-so-legal 'fun'. The self-proclaimed leader would sleep in the room, and from the one time that Francis had been in the room he knew that the room often contained little more than a round table set up for card games, half a dozen chairs, an old cot, and literally nothing else. On occasion, however, they would find that more was being done in there than drinking, smoking, and gambling, the best of the worst usually involving prostitutes and the worst of the worst involving a sort of underground slave market. That was what had gotten them kicked off of castle grounds for doing such things- not arrested, of course, being noblemen, and not even their ban from the grounds was permanent. Of course, once they were allowed back they started searching for a more secret place to conduct their 'business'. The room itself had been changed completely. The furniture had been burned- or at least they said it had been- and the walls had been painted white, covering up all of the horrid cigarette burns and blocking most of the smoky stench. The walls reminded him a bit of seagulls, and having the freedom to go where one pleased with not a thing in the world to hold them back. However, his previous thoughts had caused him to worry a bit about Arthur. He left the room and wandered a bit before finding a maid and asking her if she knew where Alice was. She just shook her head, and after several of these responses he began to become a little worried, his walk speeding to a near run as he tried to navigate his way through the castle. On his way to the gardens he swore he heard Arthur's voice from behind a painting, pulling the paining away and finding that it was a hiding place for one of the noblemen's secret passages. This scared him a little, and he hopped in just in time to hear Arthur's voice start to fade away. "Cher?" he called, walking in the direction of his voice.

Arthur stopped, although he was dragged on by the two noblemen. "Oh, I think that I heard Francis-" he started, but was cut off by a rough pull and the taste of a cotton cloth in his mouth. Arthur suddenly realized that even if they were friends of Francis's, they were most certainly _not_ friends of his own. He struggled, trying to pull the cloth away from his mouth but only ending up with his other arm being pulled behind him. One of the two oafs hissed at him to keep his mouth shut and he glared at them. He was sure he knew what they were going to do with him, but if they did then it would blow his cover. He couldn't let them find out. Not like this at least. His wide eyes looked frantically around him, looking for some way to free himself from the two brutes. Fortunately, this opportunity presented itself; He found that they were both tipsy, although still much stronger than he was. The more sober of the two, and the one who was dragging Arthur, was holding both of his wrists with one hand. The fact that he still couldn't struggle away from him actually frightened Arthur a little, seeing as he had no idea where these men were taking him and if he would be able to escape once they got there. He tried to run against them but was stopped, not by them but by tripping on his own green silk dress. They laughed huskily, and Arthur swore that he felt one of them grab his bum. This earned a shriek of protest from Arthur and a kick to the shins from him that bought him just enough time for him to pull the cloth from his mouth and run a short ways in the direction that he had heard Francis's voice. He attempted to scream for him, "_Francis!_ Fra-" but was cut off when a large hand was slapped over his mouth, the cotton cloth was replaced, and he found himself in the same position that he had been in only a short time before. He clawed at the man's meaty hand with his femininely-manicured nails until he had broken the skin, causing him again to let go. Arthur picked up his skirts and ran, not bothering to look where he was going. He didn't care, as long as it was away from the two bozos and into some safe place.

Francis found himself soon out of breath, looking down every side passage possible in order to find his beloved Arthur. He had run so much that his legs had been numbed from soreness and he nearly gave up until he hears his lover's weak cry from not far away. He ran again in its direction, rewarded with the sight of Arthur plowing into him at top speed and almost knocking him over- which was a rewarding sight nonetheless. He wrapped his arms around the younger boy, taking a moment to look him over; although he looked relatively unharmed, there was a bit of blood on his dress from his clawing at the nobleman's hand. The small amount of makeup that Arthur had applied to cover his injuries had been rubbed away almost completely. "What did they _do_ to you?" he asked, lifting him up bridal style and exiting the passageways through the nearest concealed door. "Tell me everything, I'll dress you and listen…" He carried Arthur to their room and had him stand in the middle of the floor as he had about that time the previous evening, taking out this time a plain white dress. He started to slip the old dress off of him, letting it fall unceremoniously from his shoulders and to the floor.

Arthur let himself cry a bit once they were alone, terrified that they were still chasing after him. He didn't even protest when Francis started to undress him. "I-I don't... I don't know... I-I thought th-that they were g-going to help m-me find you, b-but... wh-when I heard you call, I-I tried to f-find you, and th-they..." he choked up, looking at Francis with wide eyes. He rubbed tears from his eyes and let the slightly reddened tears drip down his hands, colored by the blood on his fingers. "Th-they didn't get to do anything... B-but I know th-that they would have, one of them at l-least..." He blinked. They really hadn't gotten a chance to do anything, other than touch him a little and possibly bruise his wrists. He was a bit ashamed of himself for allowing them to lead him away so easily to who knows where to do who knows what. He had a decent idea of what they would have done to him if he had been caught; There had been rumors going around that he'd heard in his short time of freedom- granted a lot of them were taken more as jokes since they didn't have the time or resources to deal with such a problem- that the Red Kingdom was involved in quite a few underground activities, one of them being the black market. Its involvement was seconded only by- obviously- the Black Kingdom. He pushed the thoughts out of his head, pulling Francis into his arms before the dress was pulled on all the way and burying his face in the soft, golden hair.

Francis tried to smile warmly, although Arthur wouldn't see it with his eyes hidden in his no longer tidy hair. "Hush now, it's alright. I won't ever let it happen again, okay?" he said softly. He went to their drawer and pulled out a small roll of bandages, taking them back to Arthur. "This may hurt a bit, but it should help those bruises go down a little…" He carefully bandaged his wrists, pressing a light kiss to the emerald of his wedding ring when he had finished. "There we go…" he whispered in satisfaction, placing the bandages on the bedside table. He looked Arthur over and smiled. "Oh, you look simply beautiful in white…" he commented, sitting them both on the bed. "Now you're not injured anywhere else, are you? Nowhere I can't see?" He asked, looking at him hopefully. For someone who had lived through as much as Arthur had he certainly seemed to be sensitive to these things, becoming hurt so easily as if being treated like a woman was turning him into one.

Arthur's face went dark pink at the compliment, and he rested his head on Francis's shoulder as he attempted to hide it. "N-no, I'm fine now…" he mumbled, absently examining Francis's work. He had broken that wrist at least twice in his life, and had dislocated it one time. He almost felt lucky to have escaped with nothing more than a mere bruise, but while he couldn't see it quite a few of his other injuries were showing now that his makeup had been rubbed off. He had put it on himself and, having no real experience and thinking it quite vulgar, he had applied as little as possible. He sniffled and rubbed his eyes, revealing a nasty bruise next to the left one. He slowly raised his eyes up to Francis's face, staring for a moment before sitting up. He noticed how disheveled his hair looked and took the ribbon out of it, turning his head a bit so that he could retie it. . "Your hair is so nice..." he murmured, making a neat little bow. "My hair used to be long like that, until we escaped... and then I had it all cut off and burned. It may sound strange, but it was actually quite fun." He chuckled, trying to find something to distract himself from Francis.

Francis chuckled lightly, tilting his head a little to give Arthur a better angle. "I'm glad that you think so… My father always says it makes me look like a girl, but it's not my fault that it feels so fantastic to ride horseback with the wind in your hair…" He smiled for a moment, but it disappeared when he noticed the bruise near Arthur's eye. "I can't...I can't have you hurting yourself anymore." He said softly. "Please, and not anytime in the future." His head lowered but he continued looking up at Arthur. "I'm terrified that something will happen to you and that I won't be there to save you… I-I'll protect you to my last breath, and I swear that I won't let anything split us apart…" He was whispering now, and he laid his head softly in the crook of Arthur's neck. There were a few moments of aching silence before Francis slowly raised his head again, pressed a kiss to Arthur's cheek, and shifted into a cross-legged position. "How do you feel? I know, I'm sort of hovering, but ...It's just...I worry about you a lot...You're very special to me and I don't want you hurt." He held onto Arthur's arms, his eyes showing that his concern was genuine.

Arthur just smiled a little. "Alright, I'll try not to get hurt… but I don't mind if you're a little feminine, and at least nobody's mistaken you for a woman like they have me." He chuckled, looking down at himself. The new gown was another without hoops, and the soft feeling on his skin made it feel more like a nightgown than anything. If he were in his pajamas at this time of day he would have likely received him a good tongue lashing, and possibly a smack from Allistor. "Besides, there's nothing shameful about being able to ride a horse... I've never had a horse of my own, but I'm sure that you've had dozens." He muttered, a bit jealously. The only person he had ever known to have a horse was his eldest brother, a sweet little mare with ginger hair to rival his own. Arthur had always been told that should the mare ever have a foal it would be his, but the poor creature was donated to the war effort before she ever got the chance. He and his brother had been heartbroken. Arthur thought vaguely of the various bruises and broken bones that Allistor always got from the creature, but how she was always so sweet to little Arthur and she would nuzzle his face if he brought her apples or sugar cubes. Arthur let himself daydream a little, letting his thoughts drift blissfully to the beautiful ginger mare.

Francis chuckled, but he his smile was a bit sad. "Non, only the knights are allowed to have horses these days… but if you sneak away to the stables at night, you can see them… I never had a horse of my own, but on my fifth birthday I was given a little dove." He smiled a little, letting his own thoughts wander. The little creature had been found by one of the servants in the kitchen. They had tried to put it back in its nest but it reeked so of human that it was rejected. The kitchen girl who found it was so desperate to keep it alive that when Francis discovered it she acted as though it had been a gift for him all along. Despite its tiny, fractured wing, he had loved it with all of his heart. . "He was white and his name was Pierre. Honestly, I never expected myself to like birds. I tend to scare little animals away." His smile started to come back. "I loved him so much, every morning he'd sit on my windowsill and sing and it was quite beautiful." He sighed. "One day I let him out to go find a mate and I let him live his life from there." His cerulean eyes gleamed a bit. "But I've always loved seagulls. They are almost everywhere around the lake and I always wanted to watch them all in the morning. If mon parents would take me to the lake, I'd start chasing them and try to catch one, but I was always so little." Francis had always thought his childhood to be the happiest time in his life, the only time in which he had not yet learned how to hate, and loved everything. "I always wanted to go on adventures when I was young and if it wasn't for Gilbert and 'Tonio, I don't know what I would be like." He gave a sigh. "Je suis desole, I've been rambling… but I suppose that now you can see why I love children so much, as they are the sweetest people I have ever known…"

"I understand… Peter looked so innocent the night we escaped. It was his first time being out of doors, the first time he had grass touch his feet and moonlight in his eyes. He was so fascinated with the moon, reaching up his tiny hands to try and pull it down to light our way but always finding himself unable to do it…" Arthur chuckled. They had eventually escaped into a swamp and, being summertime, it was absolutely swarming with fireflies. Peter was elated. . "Our biggest adventure when I was young was fighting the Red army... Dylan and I would always yell at the guards, using our dinner forks as little spears and acting like we could take them on. We never did win against them. It was a fun game for a while, but... well, once we realized that they weren't going to let us go, it stopped being so fun." He looked up when Francis mentioned his own friends. "I have to wonder, what kind of adventures did you get to go on?" he asked, looking at Francis with curiosity in his eyes. He had always asked his older brother to tell him stories of his adventures, but he would always say "later" and then forget, or be in a bad mood, or be too tired, or some other excuse. But he and his brothers always knew that he had dozens of stories to tell of his time beyond castle walls.

Francis chuckled. "I would give almost anything to be a child again… but now that I'm already an adult, I suppose having children of my own is the closest I'll ever get again…" he thought back for a moment before Arthur's question snapped him out of his thoughts. "Adventures? It depended on who we let lead that day. If it was Antonio's turn, we'd play with his father's swords and call ourselves the three musketeers, or listen to him play guitar and watch the sun set. If it was Gilbert, we'd do some dangerous things, but they were worth it. Sometimes we'd climb the tallest tree and see who would be too scared to go down. If we were lucky, his little brother Ludwig would join us and we would steal pastries from the kitchens. Then if it was mon turn...Ah...We would run around my castle and cause chaos, bothering the guards or sneaking out to the stables or playing hide-and-seek in the pantry. Or we'd act cute in front of ladies so they could kiss us on the cheek. And there was that one time we drew all over the faces of the drunk noblemen with ink." Francis laughed, remembering one instance in which they had run and hid in the washrooms for nearly an hour from a group of gentleman who bore a poorly-drawn coat of arms from each of their kingdoms on their faces. "Toni's in the gold kingdom, and Gilbert is now a Silver kingdom knight. We go out to drink every couple of months." He gave a faint smile and took soft breaths. "I think that explains my adventures, non?"

Arthur nodded, a happy smile spreading across his lips. "Oh, that sounds so nice…" he murmured, thinking of his own wretched childhood. He had spent a lot of his time locked up in the Red dungeon. He couldn't remember a time that he'd had more than a single friend, and after that he only had the ones he made up for himself. Often times when he saw them he was asleep, and when he was forced from his lovely sleep into harsh reality he often found himself in tears. He dreamt that they would help his escape, and when he played with Peter he would often pretend that he could see them too. But one day, soon after Cailean and Dylan had died, they had just stopped appearing. He felt lonelier than ever without them, having only Peter to talk to. They were all quiet then though, silenced with heartbreak. "S-so, those people you were talking about... Gilbert, and Toni... what are they like?" he asked, rolling onto his stomach and resting his head on Francis's knees. The knights if the Silver Kingdom were famous for their bravery, and a thirst for justice that was rivaled only by their thirst for alcohol. And the Gold Kingdom… people said that it was a place better than heaven itself, or at least that was what was said by those who left long enough to tell anyone about it. "I would love to meet them some time... I-I mean, if you would allow it of course. They sound simply wonderful..."

Francis nodded, laying a hand on Arthur's head and lightly stroking his hair. "Yes, it was all quite amazing… we've had so many fun times that I'm afraid I've lost track of them all." He sighed, thinking of his two best friends. "Antonio's a man nobody can hate. He's always happy and makes everything in the room the same way, no matter what.. He's lived in the Gold Kingdom his entire life, and he has dozens of amazing tales just from there. There's nothing that can make him sad. And if he feels like he's not happy enough, he keeps on trying." He smiled, knowing Toni would probably be out with his family and they would all be singing and enjoying life. "Gilbert… is not the ideal person to invite into your house if you don't want anything broken. He's wild and makes everything a joke or a challenge. He's tougher than Antonio and me, but he actually has a soft side if he's not drunk. He's in the Violet Kingdom at the moment I believe, but he travels constantly from being a knight. If he doesn't sound interesting enough, he's an albino." He grinned, running his fingers playfully through Arthur's hair and twisting the short locks between his fingers. "That's the both of them, I suppose. I'm the lovable one, Gil's the wild one, and Toni's the happy-go-lucky." He felt a little happy to explain his friends, making a bit of a game of it. "They would have been my best men for the wedding, but Antonio's sister died, and Gilbert was in a huge war ." He laid down, still letting Arthur rest at his knees. "You can ask me anything else about my life and I'd spend hours just telling you~" he chuckled.

Arthur smiled a little to himself and closed his eyes, trying to envision the two people that Francis had described. "Your life... I envy you so Francis. You've had so many wonderful things, people who care about you..." he sighed. "I know, when I was locked up I often wondered if there was a prince living in the castle. My mother always said that there was, and that he was a nasty child, but I never really wanted to believe her... Allistor said that the child was a coward, and that sometimes he would see him sneaking down to spy on us... I-I think that it might have been you…" he mumbled, letting his eyes drift up to Francis. He laid next to him with his arms wrapped around one of Francis's, the unbruised side of his head facing upward. "I always tried to stay up late and see you, but every time I just ended up falling asleep… Allistor said that he had always caught you though, because he always sleeps during the day…" Arthur nuzzled his arm, his eyes darting away. "I would always think I'd hear you, and then I would wake up and Allistor would say "too bad, you just missed him", and then ruffle my hair... it would make me so mad, never getting to see you. I guess I just wanted to have some connection to the outside world, and I felt like you were it..." He hesitated a moment, trying to remember all of what Allistor had said about their nocturnal visitor. "Did you… Did you ever get to speak to him? Allistor, I mean?" he asked.

Francis timidly shook his head. He could be a bit of a coward sometimes, and he knew it. "N-non, I never got the chance to talk to your brothers… The eldest one, Allistor, he would always just whisper at me and tell me to go back to bed, or to go away, but I would never say anything back. Sometimes I wouldn't leave and I would just hide because I didn't want to go yet, but then he would throw pebbles at me… Never did hit me though." He sighed, rolling over and wrapping his other arm around Arthur. "If you did see me then, you probably wouldn't recognize me now. My papa had my hair cut then, s-so I looked like a miniature version of him." He sighed heavily and stared up at the high ceiling. "When I was young I didn't understand things. How I loved you when I was a boy myself when only men and women could marry. Or why you could never be already awake once I was down there. That's all over now and...Well...Arthur, we need to start thinking about our lives and our positions, and how the future is going to work. One my parents leave us, we will be crowned as the high rulers, but...I don't know, you're my spouse now, and I just feel like we should plan ahead. How do you think everything's going to work out...? That is, if, nothing bad happens and it's just us." He sighed softly and held onto his hand tightly. "I want to hear your view on everything before I express mine."

"My view?" he repeated, giving a small sigh. "Well… practically speaking, I'm a foreigner, and as far as anybody knows a woman too, and I don't know even a single word of your language, so... chances are no matter what I say I'm not going to be listened to by anyone but you." He chuckled. Francis had caught his interest when he had mentioned seeing Allistor. He wanted to know everything about their encounters, even if there wasn't anything more to be told. He decided not to ask now though. Things would reveal themselves slowly, he was sure that they would. "As for a plan... I'm honestly not sure. I may have spent most of my life here, but I know next to nothing about the place." He frowned a bit. He really _had_ spent a good chunk of his life there, probably a majority of it. As a prisoner of war granted, but he had still been there. He knew nothing of their people, of their traditions, and he certainly didn't know anything about their royalty. He wasn't even sure what was expected of him, other than to produce an heir. Everything was strange here, and a little scary. "...Francis, I feel that I should at least ask... are you the only heir to your family's throne?" he asked.

Francis chuckled, having been distracted by his own thoughts of Arthur's language. "Oui, I am the only heir. I'm made of the blood of both my parents, and I was born to them. Therefore I'm an heir, non? I _had_ siblings, but they had prostitutes as mothers, and died from...wh-what they were good at. The two alive, Louis and Givante', are both married separately and have children of their own now. I love being an uncle." He leaned back and closed his eyes. "You'll get used to the castle, don't worry. I'll be here to guide you around and stay with you. I don't want you getting lost like earlier…" His hand snaked into Arthur's, brushing momentarily over the bandages. He frowned a bit as he looked down at them. "What do you think we're going to do together Arthur? What do you think we will… accomplish, together?" he asked, adopting the word from Arthur's language.

Arthur gave a small sigh. "Accomplish… well, I suppose having a child for one thing. Perhaps even a few." he smiled a little to himself.

Francis smiled brightly. "Ah, I nearly forgot that we were expecting a child…" he whispered, pressing a soft kiss to the top of Arthur's head.

"Oh, I'd like to have a big family someday, a bit like my own… although hopefully not all boys like mine was." He chuckled. He envied Francis a bit for being an uncle already. Arthur would never know it, but he was too.

"Non, I would prefer a small family personally. And maybe, maybe not. We could have two little boys just like us, you know.." He chuckled.

"Yes, I suppose…And who knows, maybe we could bring peace between our two kingdoms… and if mine is gone by then, well, other kingdoms. That way we won't have to deal with any more wars…" he gave a small nod as if to confirm the thought. If he couldn't save his own people at this point- which he was almost sure he couldn't- then he would keep it from happening to anyone else, especially to the Blue Kingdom. Oh, what would they say if they saw him like this, _wife_ to the prince of his former enemies' kingdom. They'd laugh at him. At least until they really saw Francis, then they would probably be afraid or disgusted with him.

"Ah yes, I suggest we make peace with the other kingdoms. I hate wars because our castle is always on the bad side." He said softly. "And I don't want your family to go through the same thing again, you know. But you can always write to them if something does come up."

Arthur sighed, snuggling up to Francis's side. He wouldn't be accepted in the kingdom of Blue again, not if he was going to give his heart to Francis at least. "M-maybe you can teach me to speak your language?" he asked, hoping to drive the conversation in a different direction. "I-I mean, since you already know the language... then you could teach me?" He only vaguely remembered learning his own language, and he knew that it had been a boring and tedious process.

"Yes. actually, I would love to teach you French. You would sound so beautiful speaking mon language. But you'll start to pick up some words, mon ange du sucre~" he chuckled.

"Are there other people here who speak English, per chance?" Arthur asked, smiling a little.

"Yes, actually, all the people in the tower speak English and some of the maids. Well, actually, anyone who isn't a noble or rich who lives here speaks English. Most of them are prisoners who gave up all their money, so my kingdom gave them jobs and a place to stay." He looked down. "Once we both own this kingdom, I'm going to switch them around. The tower people will stay, but the noblemen will be cleaning our floors and washing our clothes. All those servants will be rich and famous. I hate that horrible people get rewarded for being the way they are. I'd personally see a nobleman kissing the ground I walk on, then seeing a servant spend all day sweeping it." Francis muttered.

Arthur chuckled. He had always imagined them doing that exact thing to the people of the Red Kingdom when they had won, granted this was when he was only a child and he hadn't known better. He had dreamed of marrying a princess, although every girl at the time he had ever known to be beautiful had been several years older than himself, and he had always thought that it would be more like having an older sister or something. The idea really sort of embarrassed him now, and Francis's idea of having the noblemen beneath their feet, while an attractive one, seemed more like a pipe dream to him. "That does sound idealistic..." he mumbled, giving Francis a smile. "So... how many of those servants do you think are from my kingdom?" he asked. Traitors, that's what they really were. He was sure that many of them were soldiers who had run away from the army, hoping to leave for their sweethearts and then hide in some distant kingdom until the war was long since over. He knew that they did it, because his own brothers had planned on doing it once if they ever joined the army. Of course they never did, not that they had anywhere to run to. "M-maybe… maybe, we can visit my family sometime… f-for Christmas, perhaps…" he mumbled, hoping to re-direct his thoughts. He knew that it would probably take the Red and Blue Kingdoms years, if not entire generations to form any type of alliance, but he knew that he could find a way to make it work at least by the time they had their child. Peter would just _love_ having someone near his own age to play with, although the fact that by the time their current child was his age Peter would be grown up completely slipped Arthur's mind. "Your home is so different from mine was…"

Francis thought a moment, trying to recall the number of servants that had suddenly appeared one day during the war, when he had been younger. "Plenty of them are from the Green Kingdom, I know that much at least… It took a while for some of us to figure it out though, including me. They were so quiet for a while." he chuckled, rolling over to face Arthur. "You _will_ see your family Arthur, and I think that visiting them for Christmas is an excellent idea. And once we make alliances, they can live in our kingdom with us. We have a lot of work to do though. It will take several years until this is finished, but we will get rid of the red kingdom's bad times and re-open it as the best kingdom around. We'll even change it to a color that hasn't been taken yet if we need to." He wanted to suggest White Kingdom, but that was a myth...Or just couldn't been seen in all of the heavy snow of its region. He only knew of few kingdoms that were hidden. But then again, nobody really knew if the Grey Kingdom was there at all behind all of that fog. He could only think that the Red Kingdom had been chosen as such because it wanted to be seen, and to see those who were weaker cower before it, or some other such thing. "You know, Arthur...There's this abandoned room a few doors down..." His face went light pink. "I...I was thinking...we could use that for the child...If...you don't mind." His voice was quiet. He really wasn't sure as to whether or not he should talk about it, especially since he still wasn't sure of whether or not to believe Arthur. It would certainly take a while to become noticeable, and he really wasn't even sure that he was ready to be a father. "...I have to ask first though...If you really are...pregnant...Do you want to keep it? Do you think we'll love it...?" he asked, looking him in the eyes. He was worried that something would go wrong, that they would only end up hurting it or killing it somehow.

Arthur stared at him in shock, caught off guard by the question. "Of course I want it! Unless…" he stopped, frowning a bit. "U-unless, you _don't_ want it…" He hadn't even considered the possibility that Francis wouldn't want it. "I-I mean, y-your parents, wanting to continue the bloodline and all, I-I guess I just figured... b-because we're married now, a-and..." He curled up a bit, shrinking away from his husband. He hadn't thought any of this through. He had no idea how any of this would go for him, especially the process of getting rid of it. He was sure that Francis- having thought that he was married to 'Alice'- hadn't planned to have children for a little while, if at all, although it wasn't Arthur's fault that they had gone as far as they had the previous night. His legs and bum still ached from their activities, and he was sure that he had torn the skin a little bit. He hadn't really thought about what having a child would mean before letting himself dive in as soon as the possibility of surviving another day had presented itself so painlessly to him. He had just seen it as something a princess- or rather prince, in his case- would have to do. _"God, how could I have been such a horrendous idiot?" _The only pregnant woman he had ever seen in his life had been his own mother, and even then he had been much too young to remember the bad parts, especially once loveable little Peter had been born and they had all been so happy. "S-so... if you don't want it, I-I guess that I-I could... g-get rid of it..." he murmured, his voice became softer as he spoke, tears prickling in his eyes.

"…N-non…" Francis replied, frowning only slightly. "N-non, I want to keep it with all my soul and heart. I was asking you because I only want you to be happy." Some tears started in his eyes. "I'm just so torn and afraid because I feel like I won't be good at this. I know so very little about taking care of children, but I'll try my best to be the best father I can, even if I'm not entirely perfect." He sighed, pulling Arthur into his arms. "We're going to make it through this. I'll risk anything to make sure you both are okay." He smiled, although his voice was shaky and uneven. "Arthur. I promise." He hugged him tighter and kept them both quietly there. "Nine months then, oui? I'm not sure I can wait that long, but it will be worth it to see this child that is so promising. Even though I don't know what this will do to your body and how it will even work. You're not physically a woman and I fear you will be hurt. But I'm going to be here for you no matter what. When the time comes, I'll still be here by your side." Francis let one hand find its way to Arthur's head, petting his hair like he would a small animal. "We should wait before we tell anyone though. If people find out about the Red Kingdom's heir being a father, they'll most likely tell everyone and who knows what might happen…"

Arthur nodded. "It would only make things worse if they found out that I'm the… the…" he hesitated a moment, his mind processing what he was about to say before he giggled a little. "I… I'm the mother, aren't I?" he asked, laughing a bit. "I hadn't actually thought about it like that... but, you're right, something might happen... e-especially since most people still think that I'm Alice..." he sighed. He was sure that, out of habit, his parents would correct someone if they actually called him 'Alice', and then word could get out… God, he hoped that they had sense enough to keep their mouths shut. Especially Peter, who loved Arthur more than anything and would stand for none of this 'Alice' business. "But... I think that it will be okay. We'll take care of it ourselves... I would even do it all if I had to." He placed a hand over his belly, his face turning a light reddish color as he did so. He hadn't been particularly attracted to the idea of gaining weight, but with the amount that he already ate- which was practically nothing- he knew that he may even lose weight, even if he did eat a bit more. At that moment, his stomach decided to growl, as if to remind him of how hungry he was. He laughed a bit and looked up at Francis. "Heh, e-excuse me..." he mumbled. "I-I haven't really been eating much... I felt a bit sick this morning, so I didn't eat very much..." he chuckled nervously. The empty food tray sat at the back of their room, clear of breakfast dishes and food spills. It was actually quite clean, probably meant to be used only by himself and Francis.

"You have nothing to worry about cher. You're technically the mother, oui, but that doesn't mean the child won't be like you too~" he grinned brightly. "We'll have to keep the Alice act up for a bit longer though. If people found out about your gender then they could panic, or even kill you or the child… and I _refuse_ to let that happen. I'll do anything to keep you safe." His grip tightened a bit on Arthur, but it loosened again as he heard Arthur's stomach growl at him. "We really should get you something to eat, you're simply much too thin…" he sighed, pulling himself off of their bed with a somewhat sad glance at Arthur's waistline. He was sure that it couldn't be more than twenty-two inches around, which was practically unheard of for a boy his age. If he had it, morning sickness wouldn't help. He wouldn't be able to eat any solid food for weeks. This really worried Francis, and made him wonder how much he would be able to eat before getting sick from purely overeating. He went to their bedroom door and called in a servant, giving them their tray and asking him to fetch them dinner. "Do you feel well enough to eat?" he asked.

Arthur nodded, smiling a little. "Yes, I feel fine now… but I suppose that's what they call _morning_ sickness, isn't it?" he laughed weakly, looking down at his feet. In all of the time that they had spent in their home before the siege, they had acquired a sort of tan. Arthur had never worn shoes. There were simply no shoes to be worn. He sincerely hoped that the color wasn't dirt, although he couldn't imagine his feet not being a little dirty after all of the walking outside he had done. "O-oh, dear, I'll have to wash my feet later…" he mumbled, more as an afterthought. He sat up a little and looked at Francis, smiling nervously. "S-so, um... how much do you usually eat? I mean, I've heard some stories about people who don't eat enough, and then when they try to eat..." he shuddered, trying to push that awful memory out of his head. People in the dungeons would often go without food, being forgotten completely sometimes, and would resort to eating rats. At that point, however, a single rat could be too much for them, and their stomachs wouldn't be able to handle it. Arthur pulled his legs up and hid his face in his knees. Just thinking about it made him feel sick, especially the dull popping sound. He was sure that it wouldn't happen to him any time soon, but he couldn't help worrying. It was one of the few things he still knew how to do.

Francis chuckled lightly, rejoining Arthur on their bed. "All that matters is you feel well. I wouldn't want you very sick on our first week together, non?" His eyes fell to Arthur's feet. "Oui. We'll wash them as soon as we can. Most of your shoes are slippers or heels though so I can understand you can't get used to either." He mumbled, sitting up a little. He wrapped an arm around Arthur and pulled him a bit closer. "We eat on a normal schedule, breakfast, dinner, supper, and then usually dessert. But if you get hungry then you can ask for food whenever you want it, even if it's just something small. A feast, like we had last night, is only for special occasions, holidays and things… Yesterday was one of the only days the family gets together. Everyone has their own separate ways now." He sighed, glancing at Arthur as he said his last few words. He could tell that the other was sincerely worried about his own health, although Francis was almost positive that he would be fine to eat if he could make it through last night's feast. "You should be fine...Just don't eat too much and over time your body will take the normal amounts. You're so..._slender_ though...So I suggest you eat a lot more than you did in prison." He was a bit scared just looking at Arthur, as he had such thin little arms that he could almost be qualified as completely skin and bones, but he had heard of a few women having children and gaining quite a bit of weight, so he wasn't as worried that Arthur wouldn't want to eat. He just seemed too timid to ask for food when he was hungry. Francis considered himself to be 'slender' as well, but it wasn't to the degree that Arthur was, nowhere close to it. "I just want to say...We'll be keeping quite a lot of secrets from this child." He sighed, looking up at the door as a tapping sound came from outside. He went to retrieve their food tray, now almost difficult to carry due to the amount of food that rested on it for them. There was more than plenty for both of them, but Francis would insist that Arthur eat enough first. "Eat up, cher. You're no longer going to starve." He said with a chuckle, setting the tray on the bed.

Arthur's eyes shined hungrily, although he thanked Francis and the maid before taking his fork and helping himself to a bite of something. He moaned softly, allowing his eyelids to flutter a bit. "Why… Why is all of the food here so good?" he asked, looking up at Francis with a large grin on his face. It appeared to be some kind of cake, being fluffy and sweet and so delicious that as soon as the first bite melted away in his mouth he popped another one in. Apparently, there were certain perks of being forced to marry someone richer than yourself, even if it was against your will. There was a light frosting of chocolate over the cake, and after thinking about this for a moment he flipped the bite of his fork over so that the chocolate side would land on his tongue. "What is this…? Actually, don't tell me, I don't care, but it's so good… Do you eat like this all the time?" he asked, looking up at Francis. Arthur wouldn't mind getting to eat like that all the time, especially since he was already so thin that his ribs had begun to become visible through his chest. He hadn't minded much though, getting used to the horrifying sight after a while. At first he had thought about waiting to regain his strength before trying to gain any muscle, but then he realized that seeing as everyone thought he was a woman, he would look a bit odd.

Francis smiled a bit, chuckled as Arthur indulged himself in the wonders of cake as he took the first bite of his own piece. "Je ne sais pas." He replied, taking a casual bite. "I'm used to it so this doesn't seem new. " He chuckled. "This is quite normal. You can ask for anything you want at any time of day. Usually there's someone awake at any given time of day, seeing as those _noblemen_ always need someone to watch over their poker games, make sure that nobody's cheating." He frowned a bit. "Even you can ask for the most unusual things...I once asked for biscuits covered in chocolate and served with mint and honey and it was as normal as breathing, and wouldn't you know it they even brought a dessert fork with it." He laughed a bit. "Mon house is usually like this. If we're not in a war or a serious debate everything is calm and carefree. If the war still went on, I would sit here all night making battle plans with no sleep at all, and some of the servants feared me since I didn't talk to anyone." He took another bite of the cake. "Actually, I'm surprised nothing's going on. The castle is hardly this quiet. It's not normal in my opinion. Usually you would hear the soldiers training outside and the yells of prisoners...But instead I'm sitting here eating cake with mon lovely..._husband_." He smiled a bit. He really wasn't sure whether or not to call Arthur his wife or husband, but he decided that for the moment it didn't matter. He would think of it later, when he could stand it better.

…

Hey guys, sadly this chapter was going waaay too long and I had to cut it down to a half-chapter. Part two will be next week.


	5. The Music King- Part 2

Arthur gave Francis a small nod, listening to him somewhat intently while taking another bite of his cake. "I see…" he mumbled. He could only barely remember the sounds of battle training in his own home. The only time that they had ever had soldiers training even close to their own castle was in the short time between the time they returned there and the siege. Training was always a sort of afterthought, but as a child he had always thought that it was just because they wanted to have the soldiers wherever it was that they were being trained before they fought. It had never occurred to him that there simply hadn't been time to train and then travel if they hoped to make a battle before everyone was killed. "Well… if things are really so awful around here during the wartimes, then I hope that we never have another war." He mumbled, frowning a bit. "I'd hate to see you so tired, and I think that we've all had enough war for half a dozen lifetimes." He chuckled, looking up at Francis. His smile faltered as he noticed a speck of chocolate on the other's lip, and he hesitated a thoughtful moment before leaning in to peck it off. His cheeks turned a bit pink from the kiss and he turned away bashfully. "S-so... for now, let's hope that it stays quiet like this for as long as possible, forever maybe. I'm sure that if we tried, we could unify every kingdom, and then there wouldn't have to be any wars, right?"

"Oui, the castle probably will be quiet until we get into another war." Francis sighed heavily. He hated hearing the soldiers. All the marching, the yelling, the songs of bloodshed. They would be trained for days, even months on end and it was hard to wake up every morning from it. Trust me. Those sounds could drive the sanest man insane. I understand they were trying to prove they were the best, but I hate it. I'm never going to train to be a knight again…" He opened his mouth to speak but was cut off by Arthur's peck on the lips, silencing him. "…o-oui…" he breathed. He was yet to get accustomed to the feeling of the other's lips being pressed to his own intentionally, as it seemed to be the other way around more often than not. "W-we, erm… we should try to fix all that has been caused and rebuild your kingdom again. People are out there dying and I can't take it any longer. We are going to make things better for the world and we will do it together." He gave Arthur a bright grin, hoping to mask his being flustered. "And then… perhaps we can do some of the things we love. If we're lucky, by then horses will no longer be protected like gold in the bank… I promise you Arthur, when that day comes, I'll but you the prettiest little mare that I can find." He gave a nod of assurance. He noticed suddenly that he had stopped thinking of him as "Alice", or "her", or "she".

Arthur nodded again, giving Francis a small smile. "I suppose… although we both know that they probably won't accept your help. They still think of this place as the enemy, and quite a few others agree with them, especially the Kingdom of Blue. I wouldn't be surprised if they were planning an attack right this minute, such a thing would be like Christmas for them…" he chuckled. As much as he admired Francis's optimism, he thought it a bit silly at times. He scowled and popped another bite of cake into his mouth. "Oh, let's put this talk of war behind us. It's an awful thing and I just can't stand to think of it now… let's talk of something else." He glanced at a clock, determined to keep the subject off of war and old times for at least five minutes. He thought a moment of a different topic and then smiled. "Francis, you talked about a room before, which was down the hall... one we could use for the baby... can you show it to me?" he asked, finishing his cake. He wanted to see this room for himself if their child was going to live there. He had been piecing together ideas of what a child's room could be like based off of what had been arranged for Peter, although by the time he finally got to use his room he was too old for the toys or the crib or the simple books that had been there waiting for him. He hadn't seemed to mind though. He stood up, leaving his plate and his dessert fork on the bed, and walked to the door without bothering himself with slippers.

Francis sighed, glad to have the horrible experience of war out of his mind for a while. "I would be honored to show you the room." He stood up and gingerly took Arthur's hand, leading him from the room and down the hall a ways. He chuckled a bit at Arthur's bare feet and pushed the door open, revealing the large, white room. "This actually has an interesting story. The noblemen used to use this room for their meetings until papa and mammon found out about the illegal things they were trading. They've moved their meetings nearer the dungeons now, where they aren't disturbed and nobody has to see them..." he chuckled a bit and released Arthur's hand, slowly approaching the window. "It's got a nice view of the gardens, and a small orchard past that… although it could use some curtains since it faces the morning sun." he muttered, frowning a bit. He realized that it would be difficult to decorate the room unless they knew the child's gender, although such technology was far ahead of their time. "Parents…" he murmured, turning to face Arthur. The near-sunset skies outside cast a long shadow on the floor in front of him, and a darker one to his face. "That's what we are together now…" he blinked and approached Arthur again, taking his hands lightly.

Arthur nodded slowly, examining the room for himself. He was not so easily overtaken by the simple beauty of the room, noticing the small imperfections; the cracks in the pain in some places, the peeling in others, the dirt and dust caked onto the solitary long window. The room was certainly large enough for a nursery though, possibly even for two children. He frowned, looking up at Francis. "Tell me, exactly what types of things took place in this room…?" he asked, walking along a wall. If there had been some sort of drug deal then he simply wouldn't allow their child to be anywhere near the room for fear that they had left something behind. He pressed his hand into places in the wall where the paint was faded or chipped, looking for anywhere that could be a hollow spot or secret compartment. He would take no risks with this child.

Francis skimmed the opposite wall with his own hand, hoping to reassure Arthur. "Non, nothing they did in here is as serious as the things they do now." He thought to himself for a while. "All they really did was trade women and play poker while getting their hands on any sort of tobacco. This room used to be black and the door had quite a few locks on it for keeping out unwelcome guests…" he sighed, a few bits of old, faded-grey paint showing in his palm. He glanced around the room, starting to notice a few things that had been left. Small clusters of ash stuck between the wooden floorboards, and a large crack in the ceiling that was shaped a bit like a rabbit if you squinted at it enough. "There's quite a bit of work to be done here if we do use this room-" he started, but stopped as his hand suddenly plunged into the wall. "Wh-what the…?" he murmured, feeling around in the hollow cavity before his hand found something soft. He wrapped his fingers around the item and pulled it out slowly, brushing some of the pain off of it. It was a small lady's handbag. He opened it and sat on the floor, displaying its contents in front of him. The bag contained a few dried rose petals, a golden locket, a few coins, some charcoal pencil stubs, and dozens of old drawings. "Mon dieu… Arthur, look at these." He held up one of the charcoal drawings, a picture of a young woman with a sweet smile drawn on her expression. "This woman, she was one of the ones that was killed by them…" he murmured worriedly. "Th-this room… I can't even think of it now…"

Arthur stared, shocked for a moment before taking the picture lightly from his hands with a sympathetic frown. "Oh, the poor thing…" he murmured. "Th-those men… they really were monsters, weren't they?" He knelt next to Francis and looked at the other pictures. Most of them were the same size, as if all of the papers had been torn from the same notebook, but they all depicted different scenes. Most of them were other young women or some flowers with an occasional smudge of color presumably created by smudging flowers on the paper. The most prominent color, however, was red, and he was almost sure that it wasn't any kind of flower. "I'm sorry Francis, but I have to ask... w-were you ever in association with these men? I-I mean, not that I think you would, but... well, for an illegal organization, y-you would think that m-most of this would be secret, and y-you do seem to know quite a bit about them..." he pointed out. The whole situation reeked of suspicion to him, although that could have just been the smell of alcohol in the paint. "I wouldn't think any less of you for it, just please, please tell me the truth…"

Francis stared back at Arthur in shock, almost not believing his words. "Q-Quois? Did you say that right?" His heart beat faster and he felt ready to suffocate. Many years ago when he was about Peter's age, he had been taken by the men. At first he thought they wanted him to do something, but then it was awful. The worst pain he had ever felt. They stripped him of all clothes and put burning steel to his skin, cut until he lost enough blood and tortured him until he was too weak to fight back. Then the rest of the night they used him as a sex object, sometimes they would go two at a time on him and then he collapsed and didn't move, and Francis was left in the tower until he was eight, suffering from a coma. But once he woke up, he was back in his room. Nobody told him the magic men were there watching over him like angels and doing anything to get him back awake. When he did wake up, he didn't notice the time gone by or anything, not even that he was older and had missed his birthday by some weeks. The castle was quiet and couldn't have war when the only heir wouldn't wake up. It was this very room that it had happened. "Arthur...I...I don't want to talk about it." He said, tears in his eyes and his face pained with the memories. He silently stood next to Arthur. "They...They did h-horrible things... when I was Peter's age…" He said silently, looking at the pictures of the girls. His voice was no longer happy and slightly romantic, as it was now more rough and saddened. "I thought I would die." He sighed. "Now you can realize why I felt so horrible last night. I thought I was going to kill you." It explained everything now. It explained why Francis killed so many people, why he kept switching moods constantly, why he sobbed even when Arthur was a room away, and why he didn't like to talk about his past unless it was good memories. All because of that event at such a young age. "...This was the room it happened in." He glanced at one of the corners. "That's where they did it."

Arthur gasped, dropping the picture in utter shock. It explained everything. "I… I-I'm so sorry, I had no idea…" he moved to his side, wrapping an arm around him and glancing at the corner as if it was still deadly. "I'm sorry for asking, it must have been just awful…" he brushed some of the long, golden hair away from his eyes. "W-we shouldn't use this room, its evil might get to our child..." Arthur decided then that for the rest of his life as a princess, he would make it his duty to rid the castle of these horrid men. "I-it will be okay, you'll see... It won't happen ever again, a-and I'll make sure it doesn't. I promise." he frowned. Vague memories resurfaced in his mind but he pushed them back, not thinking that now was the time for both of them to be weakened in this way. "Francis… F-Francis, don't you start crying. If you start, th-then I'll start, a-and then…" he stopped. He looked around the room again hatefully, as if it were the room itself that had caused him such pain. The clean white paint felt like some kind of mask, a shelter put over an evil shadow to keep it from being seen. "L-let's go somewhere else... th-there has to be another room in the castle th-that would make a nice nursery, r-right?"

Francis was quiet for a while, content to simply sit there and hold onto Arthur for comfort. He gave the other a fake, nervous smile. He felt like he would cry. A few tears ran defiantly down his face, but he tried to blink back as many as he could. He could be strong. It had been twelve years since it had happened, he would be fine now. "Yes...Let's leave this horrid place for all that's worth." He just had fears, seeing their child grow up in a room where horrible things happened for nights on end. Even worse, fearing the noblemen would come back one day and...He didn't even want to know. He quickly took Arthur's hand and made them so that they were walking again, closing the door with a shiver. He walked them down the hallway. "Well, let's look and see what's available." He smiled softly, although the tears on his face still made it clear that he was upset. He decided that he would allow Arthur to choose the room this time, mostly so that he could allow himself to forget the events that had taken place in the room. "I realized...You actually do act a little bit motherly at times... You may have had a sort of romantic relationship with someone else, non?" he asked shakily, giving Arthur's hand a little squeeze.

Arthur blinked, a bit taken off guard by the question. "W-well, I… i-it was quite a while ago, h-he's likely forgotten by now…" he mumbled, smiling a bit although sadly. "H-he… he was just my really close friend, from my childhood… I-I'd prefer not to talk about it…" he laughed weakly, his face pinkening a bit as he weakly returned Francis's gesture. Other than the times spent with Peter, one of Arthur's few good memories from his short time in his home was meeting up with his childhood friend again for the first time in so many, many years. It was such a relief that they had recognized each other too, because each was only moments away from killing the other. For weeks after that they had snuck out to see each other every night, rekindling their friendship and catching up on the happenings of the years gone by, although it was the other who did most of the talking. One night in particular, when they had met closer to the other's kingdom of Blue, they'd had a sort of date on a hillside with a view of the night's half-moon. It had been each of their first kisses… and the last night that he had seen his dear friend. The night after had been the night of the siege on the castle. Allistor had teased him when he came home with his face a brighter red than the color of their enemies. He had joked about Arthur finding himself a lovely princess, but Arthur had found it insulting for him to be called 'princess'. This friend was no lady. He blinked, snapping himself suddenly from his thoughts and looking at Francis. "H-he… he was the prince of the Blue Kingdom…" he admitted slowly.

Francis chuckled, leading him from the room. "Ah, a first romance I see? Too bad I missed out on that opportunity…" He nudged Arthur's arm and continued to walk. "Mine… ah, she was a beautiful young woman named Jeanne. Sadly, I remember next to nothing of her. Her existence itself is considered no more than a myth by some people now…" he sighed. "But, yours was with another prince, and mine wasn't even believed by people. "I never expected myself to love men though. Papa hated it when I said I wanted to kiss other boys as a teen and he said I sounded like a girl. I didn't really care." He sighed. He just loved Arthur's story, as it was just so romantic; two boys that had lost each other for years, only to meet later and fall in love in time to lose each other again. "We're collecting so many secrets together that it's going to be hard to keep track of them." He chuckled. "I think… we need to let go of our pasts, start new lives. I don't want out little child to grow up on lies… it will be hard enough when it learns that we're both men…" He sighed heavily. "I honestly don't know who I am anymore. There are so many things I want to change and- Goodness me, I'm rambling. I seem to do that a lot, cher. Let's just continue walking." He laughed a bit.

He chuckled. "It will be alright, I don't mind… I think it's nice that we can talk like this, don't you? I mean, I was terrified of you at first and all... mostly because I had been a prisoner of here for so long and all, but now I think I may actually like it here." He sighed, his thoughts still on the prince of Blue. Their first meeting after Arthur's return home had been terrifying. He'd mistaken the other for some kind of Red spy that had come to take him back, having only a worn-out old bow of Allistor's to protect himself at the time. The other had a sword, one that had been held to Arthur's neck just as he had time to draw an arrow to his neck. The steel of the blade had poked into his skin for only a few moments before their eyes met, their weapons dropping beside them unused. There had been nearly a full minute in which the two had just stared at each other in shock, neither sure it they were dreaming, until the other had pulled him into a tight hug. Arthur had been startled until he recognized the features; the honey-blonde hair, the babyish face, the cerulean blue eyes. He found himself crying tears of joy, resting his head to the Blue Prince's shoulder. He had never, ever wanted to leave those arms, wishing that he could have just stayed there forever and cried his frustrations out to him. He glanced at Francis. Although he and the Blue prince were different in every way, they shared the same deep, loving blue eyes. He almost saw the blue princes face in Francis's for a moment, blinking to make the vision disappear. Could he really still allow himself to love the other prince now? "I…I'm sure that Jeanne was a wonderful young lady."

Francis nodded. "Yes, I suppose so… and I am glad that we're finally able to get along well enough." He chuckled. He still remembered the day, just two days ago now, when he had found dozens of dresses in his wardrobe along with his own clothes. He had questioned everyone in the castle, every person he came across, and not a single one had known until he finally came to his father. He had looked so triumphant telling Francis that he was to marry a woman, and since 'she' was their prisoner he wouldn't have to pay a dowry. He had been delighted, although Francis had dreaded it since he was first told. He had expected his bride to be some nagging, spoiled, obnoxious little brat who would do nothing but annoy him and bear equally annoying children, but it had been nearly the opposite of that. He felt almost as if he and Arthur belonged together, as if their meeting and marriage had been no accident. He glanced at Arthur, hoping to see some amount of love in his eyes but finding that any that was there was drowned out with overwhelming curiosity. His eyes darted away. Were blue eyes strange or something? "So… what about you? What were you imagining this to be when you first found out of our marriage?" he asked. He couldn't imagine that he had taken it well. He seemed to remember some rumor of a fight breaking out in the dungeons between a couple of guards and a woman, but he had only chuckled and assumed it to be nothing important as the counter-rumor later reached him that they had beaten her off. He assumed that it was part of the reason that Arthur had been wearing so much makeup with his wedding clothes.

Arthur looked at him again, laughing a little. "I… I was terrified…" he admitted. "They never actually said a word to me, and if they did then I didn't understand them… it scared me at first, so many people all trying to do things to me, changing my clothes and things, I thought that they were preparing me for some sort of dismemberment until I saw the dress… I thought th-that they were insane, trying to put me in that thing… and they weren't exactly gentle while doing it… after that, I was just so afraid. I thought that you'd be some monster, and I knew that I was probably going to be killed… I-I didn't think that I would even be alive now actually… Once they found out of my gender, I figured that it would just be a matter of digging me a shallow grave and tossing me in…" He shuddered, moving closer to Francis nervously. Admittedly, there had been a time that he was hoping such a mistake would happen, but it was for the Blue Prince whom he hoped it would be for. It had been a short-lived fantasy. Between the two princes now, he had no idea whether he would still pick the Blue over the Red. "But I was expecting th-them to execute me at some point. S-some of them knew... th-the prison guards probably know, unless they were all drunk when they-" he stopped, not wanting to think of _that_ now. The first few times it had happened he had tried to imagine the Blue prince, although sadly that had only made it worse.

Francis sighed lightly, pecking a soft kiss to Arthur's head. "Yes, I was afraid too…" he chuckled, placing an arm around him comfortingly. "But cher, I don't care what you are, man or woman, I still love you more than anything. The marriage was forced and we could barely look at each-other, but I still feel something in my heart for you." He smiled a bit. He had no such fantasy like Arthur's. With the exception of Jeanne, he'd never had a lover that he could think of in his endless times of loneliness. The only ones who filled the void in his heart were his two friends, Gilbert and Antonio, but not even they could help him all the time. He became a bit frustrated as they continued down the halls. All of the empty rooms had been converted to closets, and were much to small to accommodate even a newborn for very long. "There has to be someplace…" he muttered, his hand lowering into Arthur's.

Arthur frowned a bit, nodding in agreement. "Yes, there must be some empty room in this place…" he mumbled, giving a tired sigh. He refused to let their child stay in the room of the noblemen. If they would do things to _a_ child, they would do them to _their_ child. He glanced down at his belly, again swearing that he saw a nonexistent change in it. "I wonder what the gender will be…" he mumbled, a small smile spreading over his lips. He wasn't sure which one he preferred yet, although he would be happy with either. He would love it with all of his heart. He sighed, blissfully forgetting their dilemma for a few moments. He could only imagine what the Blue prince would say if he saw him like this... he would probably be furious, thinking of course that Arthur had been forced into it and he might try to kill Francis. He unconsciously squeezed Francis's hand, not wanting to lose him as they slowly rounded a corner together. Francis must have had dozens of suitors over the years, all wishing to get their hands on the Red Kingdom's money- a fortune seconded only by that of the kingdom of Gold's. Many would probably want Arthur's head for taking the opportunity from them, and Arthur realized exactly how much more dangerous his life would become with his marriage. He sighed softly, his foot snapping on a stone in the floor and causing him to trip, bringing Francis down on top of him.

Francis was a bit startled when he was pulled down, having been about to reply to Arthur's comment on the child's gender. "Arthur, cher…" he said quietly, thinking that he had done it on purpose. "Now really isn't the time-" he stopped, looking into Arthur's eyes. The green seemed to be trying to intimidate him, something which was well accomplished. He would prefer that of all things that their child would not inherit those. Or the eyebrows, which were simply ridiculous. But for now, he had to keep his thoughts elsewhere. For starters, he had to get off of Arthur. They looked a bit strange laying in the middle of the hallway like that. He figured that, if Arthur had pulled him down, that he may as well give him what he no doubt wanted. He pressed their lips together, not waiting for Arthur's permission to explore every bit of his sweet mouth before unceremoniously breaking the kiss and pulling him back up, leading him on into the hallway. "Please try to keep yourself from doing that again. We must have looked silly on the floor like that." He chuckled.

Arthur's face turned a dark red, and he stumbled a moment. He was still trying to figure out what on earth had just happened to him. "Y-yes, alright…" he mumbled. He hadn't intended for that to happen, he had simply slowed a bit and the dress had swept up under him. It wasn't as if he actually _wanted _to kiss Francis or anything.

Francis, after finally helping Arthur back up, had managed to locate another empty room. It was much cleaner than the other room had been, more well-kept, although all that was in it was an old nightstand. Francis walked in and inspected the room, opening up the nightstand. A small, crumpled piece of paper sat patiently inside, waiting to be opened;

_"Dearest Elizaveta, _

_It's Roderich. I am planning to move out of this burning hell of a castle to live with you. They forced me to become a nobleman and all I wanted to do was play the piano and violin at the parties. I am moving out tomorrow and all of my belongings are being sent your way through the carriage. Then I'll come next with that nightstand you used to love so much and that we would eat cake on. Finally, I will be on my own and run for miles to see you, or steal one of the horses. Then I can play the piano for you. How is Feliciano doing? Is she still a maid? I hope this gets sent to you, and if it doesn't, I'll be in the dungeons, waiting until you can save me. _

_Love, Roderich."_

Francis stared at the note strangely for a few moments. "This… this was written by the man who taught me to play piano…" he mumbled. "He did steal a horse, but… I can't imagine why he would leave this here."

Arthur decided that he much preferred this room to the previous one, and could tell that it had a much more pleasant history. "I think that I like this room better… and such a nice little nightstand." He chuckled, walking to it as Francis removed the letter. As he listened to him read it, he looked around. The room, while quite plain, was just the right size for a nursery. Outside the window the tower could be seen, as well as the front gate and a good deal of the unusual plants that grew between the two. He swore that he saw some of those flowers running around. He glanced back at Francis, a bit confused by the look in his eyes. It reminded him of the eyes of the Blue prince whenever he tried to tell him of being locked up. It looked like pity. He went to his side and looked at the letter over his shoulder, although he could only read what appeared to be names. Curse his inability to read this language. It was bad enough that he couldn't read most of the books in the library. "Well… I hope that they're very happy with each other." He murmured, smiling a bit.

Francis gave him a weak smile, looking over him fondly. "Yes, this room should do much better…" he mumbled, looking around. It was much smaller than the other room had been, and it help no bad memories save for the ones of being woken up by the plinking of piano keys early in the morning or the man asking for cake at various inconvenient times, even right before a meal which he would then refuse to eat. The man had, however, told him all of the dark stories of the noblemen when he had wanted to hear them. This room certainly held more pleasurable memories that unpleasant ones, and although a bit further from their own room it was much preferable to the room of the accursed noblemen. "This room has such a nice view of the tower… I think that our child will love it." He smiled a bit.

Arthur smiled a bit, giving him a small nod. "Yes, I agree… but I almost with that it wouldn't take quite so long. All of this talk of children makes me wish that we had one now…" he sighed. If their child wouldn't hurry up, then he at least wished that he could see Peter again. This, however, would be so dangerous at this point. "Um, Francis... you don't think that anyone has noticed the absence of my family from the dungeon, do you? I mean, th-they did sort of leave secretly and all, so if anyone notices th-that they're gone..." Arthur's smile quickly faded. He knew that if his family had made it to their destination- which he was sure they had, as the late August evening posed no real threat with the distraction of the wedding aiding in their escape- that Peter would tell the Blue prince. He would be absolutely furious if he found out what had become of him. He had only seen the other truly angry once, and he had decided that he never, ever wanted to see him like that again. He still wasn't sure whether he found the face he'd made cute or terrifying. He had sworn that he would bring an end to the kingdom of Red, and while Arthur had only chuckled and told him that it was a fool's errand at the time, he wouldn't be there after this event to talk him out of it. He glanced at Francis expectantly, hoping that he would say something to calm his nerves.

"Non...You left such a long time ago and everyone thinks you died and the bodies were hauled out. Not many people care for prisoners." Francis gave a sigh. "The guards did report unusual things though, but nobody really cared since the eyes were on the war." He was silent for a while, letting the shadows slowly fall over his face as the sun started to set. "I'm so sorry you had to be hauled down here and left to die, away from the prince you loved and all that." He sighed. "But yesterday I gave you a chance to run free and you didn't take it. You would have been safe and in a better place, you know, instead of married to a man and being with his child. We all have our depressing pasts, Arthur, and you're going to need to try to forget. The future is ahead of us, and the past will only ruin it. We'll start a new rebellion and make the red kingdom the good team and rebuild the green kingdom. I'll do everything it takes!" Francis pumped a fist in the air, his voice strong and endearing. He glanced triumphantly out the window, noticing the dusky twilight forming on the horizon. "Although… we should probably plan on resting for now…" he mumbled, chuckling a bit. "It's been a long day, and we both need our rest." He took Arthur's hand and led him from the room, peeking back in as they left as a father would after tucking his child in to make sure that they were still asleep. He took them back to their room quickly enough, closing the door and giving a small sigh once they were alone inside. I don't know what to do anymore Arthur...But just to say...We may have some bad news."

Arthur frowned a bit, not liking where this was going. He had thought it bad enough that the other prince might have thought him dead, thinking of the devastation that it would bring him, as he seemed to remember him telling him during their first meeting that he had "waited a near eternity for him to come back," and that he "was his entire world", or some other such romantic nonsense. There was a hope deep inside of him- while it conflicted with his undeniable attraction to Francis- that wanted the Blue prince to find him, to save him from this place. "What do you mean Francis?" he asked softly, going to their wardrobe to find himself a nightgown. He glanced down and remembered that he had intended to wash his feet at some point, taking the bathrobe from earlier instead. After finding them, he undid the buttons down the back of his dress and slipped the other clothing off with it, his face turning a bit pink. He could practically _feel_ Francis's eyes all over him, taking in his slender body. He pulled the bathrobe on quickly and sat a moment, hoping to hear some explanation to Francis's previous statement.

Francis hesitated a moment, his eyes darting away from Arthur as he started to undress. "Someone wants me… or possibly _**us**_ dead." He sighed, scratching the back of his head. "I… I just wasn't sure how to tell you… apparently just after we left, a young man in the attendant stood up with a knife in his hands and tried to run after us. The guards caught him in time though, and they identified him as a prince, a young man named Alfred. They've sent him home now, with your family, to his kingdom…" he laid down on their bed as Arthur stood up, his hand finding the place that had been stitched up that morning. He wondered if Arthur really loved him or not. If he had just been acting all of this out, trying to make him happy just to protect his own life. He couldn't really blame him if that was the case, although he would still continue to love him all the same. The other seemed to leave the room in such a hurry after receiving this news, as if he wanted to be away from him as soon as possible. He rolled onto his stomach, thinking longingly of Arthur. He wished that the other would accept his love, as he tried so very hard to act as genuine as he felt.

Arthur nearly burst into tears at Alfred's name, leaving the room to keep these sudden tears from overtaking him in front of Francis. He didn't want him to watch if he cried over something as silly as a lost love. He slammed the bathroom door behind him, starting the bathwater to mask the sound of his sobbing. He had been too busy at the wedding to even look for him, not even considering that he may have been there to save him from the fate that, at the time, seemed worse than death to him if not surely leading to it. _He could have walked right past him without even noticing it._ If Alfred had been at the wedding… "Oh… o-oh, god, h-he saw us kiss…" Arthur murmured, his eyes wide and fearful. It was a wonder that that alone hadn't set him off. He climbed into the bathtub once it was about halfway full, although he wasn't ready to stop crying yet so he allowed the water run longer. He hid his eyes in his fists. "Alfred, I'm sorry… I-I'm so, so sorry…" he cried to the empty room. He looked down at himself. He loved Francis, he really did, but he almost wished now that he'd never met him just so that he wouldn't have to choose between the two of them. He was happy, and yet he still wished that he were in Alfred's home, as Alfred's wife, with Alfred's child… he rubbed his eyes, the tears running almost immediately into the bathwater that had now reached his lips. He turned the water off, sitting up on his knees to keep himself from inhaling any water. He tried to wash himself off to get his mind onto something else, but the more he allowed his thoughts to slip to it the more upset he felt. Alfred would have gotten them both killed if he had been able to kill Francis the previous evening. He could be so careless with details. Alfred never really understood the idea of one person _not_ making a difference on their own, which was probably why he had always insisted that Arthur could have escaped if he had tried hard enough. Arthur _knew_ that he could have, but he had wanted to stay with his family- another thing that Alfred had never understood- so he had never tried. He let out a heavy sigh, the tears finally starting to slow. Alfred was an idiot, although an entirely different breed of idiot than Francis. He climbed to the edge of the tub and dried his feet with a fluffy towel, satisfied with the clean feeling he had on the outside. Why did he have to keep falling in love with idiots? He smiled a little sadly, drying himself off and pulling on his nightgown and the bathrobe over it. All of the nightclothes that had been given to him, while nice, were all a bit… revealing, and he didn't feel comfortable letting Francis see him in some of those things let alone anyone that happened to be walking in the hall.

Francis sighed, listening to the faraway sounds of running water. He felt somehow, as if it were some prediction that had come to him in his drowsiness-clouded mind, that he and Arthur would have a fight that would split them apart. There was no way that a marriage like theirs would succeed. He buried his face in a pillow. "I'm sorry…" he muttered, his voice muffled slightly. He raised his head a bit to look out of the window. Small, multicolored orbs drifted dreamily around the magician's tower, giving it a magical look in the light of the dusk. The capitol city bellow was starting to go back to sleep, the children being called inside by impatient mothers who had their supper waiting for them. Francis, to say the least, wasn't hungry for supper, and his mood had made him lose his appetite. His thoughts drifted for a while as he tried to get to sleep, eventually landing on Arthur's family. He remembered promising Arthur that he would get to see them for Christmas. If he really was with child, then the five months between then and now would surely give him time to show it. His family would be appalled, and the thought of little Peter- sweet, innocent little Peter- having to think of the things that he had done to Arthur nearly broke his heart. He groaned and rolled over, facing the window and turning his back to the door. He let himself drift slowly into the arms of sleep, giving a small sigh.

Arthur re-entered the room a few minutes later, flopping down next to him. "The bathroom is available, if you wanted to clean yourself up before bed…" he mumbled, his words slurred slightly. He hadn't realized exactly how exhausted he was until his head hit the pillow, not wanting to leave it any time soon. He had spent nearly all of his day either walking, running, or crying. He wrapped a lazy arm around Francis, nuzzling his back like a great, sweet-smelling pillow. He couldn't think of Alfred now. He just couldn't stand to. He'd think of him later, when he could stand him better. However, he found himself thinking that Francis and Alfred weren't really so different after all; despite the fact that they were both infatuated with him, neither of them really understood him for all that they tried. Alfred, however, as much better at putting Arthur in a good mood. He smiled a bit as a good memory of Alfred found him; Alfred had made some crude joke about something that Arthur had been serious about and Arthur had gotten offended and upset, but when Arthur had tried to storm off angrily Alfred had pulled him into a bear hug. Arthur had struggled and a sort of game ensued, in which Arthur would try to push Alfred off of him while Alfred did all that he could to keep him from doing so. Alfred always won. The game had gone on for a while until they found themselves laughing, breathless, and in the awkward position of having their faces no more than an inch apart with Arthur's arms pinned to his sides and his knee grinding against Alfred's crotch. Needless to say the game had stopped there, although Arthur found himself no longer upset with him. Arthur's cheeks turned a rosy shade of pink, a small smile tugging at his lips as he allowed himself to drift off to sleep.

Francis slept peacefully for a while, somehow managing to roll over without disturbing Arthur and snuggling up to him. He mumbled in his sleep at time- little words like "me" or "that"- sounding like an infant who was just learning to talk. His dreams were so strange though; They had rebuilt the green kingdom except Arthur wasn't happy, which was unusual. When he questioned him, Arthur said it was a waste because the green kingdom was weak and couldn't hold any longer. And then he cried and ran off, telling Francis he ruined everything. But then when Francis went inside the large castle to see if something was different, it was empty. Not a single piece of furniture or even a rug. It was like Arthur lost everything. And then Francis felt himself black out in his dream while he progressed towards a new one. This one was so odd he couldn't even explain it. Peter had become the king of the Green Kingdom and he was an adult. He became a strong knight with a white horse and was every village's hero, except he was...blind. Some sort of eye injury had happened of some sort and he wore a blindfold, and when his family went to congratulate him and spend time with him he was confused and cried when he couldn't see them. Francis at this point was trembling violently in his sleep. Usually his dreams were simple...But this...this was odd. Usually they never had so much emotion or included people he hardly knew. He didn't understand it either. Why was the castle empty? Why was Peter blind? Why did everyone have to cry? He shivered a bit in his sleep, feeling as if all warmth and love had left him.

Arthur, unlike Francis, hadn't slept soundly. He found himself waking up to the sight of the sun beginning to rise, unless of course it was setting backwards. He sighed, groggily sitting up and himself take his time to adjust his eyes to the light. He played with Francis's hair for a while before he remembered the book that he had stowed in the library earlier, smiling a little. He silently left the room, sneaking his way downstairs nearly undetected save for the few servants who gave him directions. It seemed to him that the castle, or at least certain parts of it, was always bustling with activity. The library, for example, currently held a few of the servants who, while apparently on duty, had no intention of working at the current time. Three of them sat in a corner, looking at some old book and giggling until they saw him come in. They all but flew out of their skins, begging him not to tell anyone that they were there. Arthur just laughed a bit and left them alone, much to their surprise and confusion, but by no means disappointment. He found his book and started back for his room, stopping to ask the servants if it was okay to take books from the library. They all nodded yes, but he couldn't help but somehow feel that they were just saying it because they feared that he would be angry if they told him otherwise. He sighed and left them to their book, eager to get back to his bedroom and dive into the magical world that the book had shown him. When he reached the room, however, he was a bit startled to find Francis shivering under all of the covers. He rushed to his side to see what was wrong with him and was equally surprised to find that he was still asleep. "Oh, he's having a bad dream." He chuckled, smiling sympathetically. He picked up his book again and sat next to him, propping the book up on his legs so that his arms were free and wrapping one arm around Francis's head, his hands toying lightly with his hair. He hummed softly, hoping to bring the other some comfort. "There now, you'll be okay…" he whispered. He heard Francis murmur something in his sleep and he smiled a bit, leaning over and pecking a gentle kiss to his hairline. "You'll be just fine…"

…

Okay, another small update. First off, not 100% sure if I'll be able to post a chapter next week, because I've got a school project that I really, really have to work on (two actually). Also, I know that the chapters are getting boring and that we're falling into that inevitable lull in the action that all of my stories seem to have where there's lots of talking but not much else, and unfortunately the next chapter is more of the same probably, but the next chapter is at least going to start gearing the story up for all of the good stuff. Like a chocolate-filled donut, except you have to bite through the outside stuff to get to the chocolate first and the outside stuff is about half made of cement and oh MY GOSH I'M RAMBLING-


	6. Wayfall

Snow piled on the window sill of Arthur and Francis's bedroom, reflecting the morning sunlight like mirrors. A soft but chilling breeze blew into the room, floating across the face of the latter of the two blondes and waking him up. Francis sat up slowly, propping himself up on one elbow. Things had changed in the past months. It had really become much harder to track time for him, but the seasons told him everything. He and Arthur had been married not long after his birthday, and seeing as it was now barely a week until Christmas and they were actively packing for a holiday trip he knew that it had to have been about five months, and it showed in Arthur clearly. There was no longer doubt in Francis's mind about Arthur's being with child, as the small bump was beginning to show. They had fixed quite a few of his dresses to fit his new size, and while they were now not quite as flattering they were better for him than other dresses were. His eyes fell to his side, the golden bob of his lover's unruly hair sticking up from under the covers. His expression softened. He worried for Arthur constantly; that he'd get sick or hurt, or be stolen away from him again, or that he'd be killed from childbirth. The latter was so far off he tried not to think of it, but he heard so many stories… Francis shook his head, frowning a little. He settled next to Arthur close enough so that his hair hung over the other's face, managing to put on a little grin.

"Good morning mon amour, it's snowing out." He whispered, his lips pressed against the side of Arthur's face in not-quite-a-kiss. "The snow is nearly as beautiful as you are… tell me, how are you this morning?" The lump under the covers shifted slightly, but Arthur didn't roll over. His head turned to meet Francis's lips.

"Tired… and I can't roll over with this weight in my belly." He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and heaved himself onto his back. "I've been worrying about our holiday… suppose my family doesn't like you…" If Arthur had been smiling, he wasn't anymore. Worries surfaced in his mind like a body to the top of a swamp, unwanted and so old than frankly they were beginning to annoy him. "I mean, I know they don't like you already, b-but this is our opportunity to prove yourself to them, a-and they'll think it's your fault that I'm in this condition… oh, a-and whatever will Alfred say… I know it's likely he may not even by interested in me anymore, but I'd hate to ruin my friendship with him over something like this…" his voice shook, but he wasn't quite in tears yet. He didn't have the strength to cry. Besides, the thought of losing Alfred came to him so often that it almost didn't bother him… almost. He found that he was quite often tired or moody like this, brooding on things that didn't matter, and trying to distract himself by exploring or deciphering his book. The garden was also a sort of safe haven away from the noise and bustle of the castle during the day, but at night- or rather as soon as the sun started to touch the horizon- the guards started to block it off. He did run into the noblemen on occasion, but now they usually hurried past him, seeming to accept the fact that he was Francis's. That or they just didn't like him in his… current condition. He usually got a chuckle out of watching them, but it was a thin silver lining around a dark cloud that seemed insistent on zapping him in the bum every few minutes to remind him why they scurried away- that is to say, he felt awful most of the time. Francis had begun taking up odd jobs in some of the smaller villages to occupy his time, and while Arthur couldn't be happier he was doing so it always felt like he was trying to avoid him. Francis would almost always leave before Arthur woke up, and wouldn't return until he was finishing up his dessert or settling into bed. They rarely spoke like they did now, and when they did it was often Francis telling him of how the children in the villages were doing. In all honesty, Arthur felt like he was spending more time with those children than he was with his own. He shifted a bit so that he faced Francis, dark circles around his eyes from another night's light sleep.

Francis sighed, wrapping his arms around Arthur and letting one hand rest over his belly bump. "Non, non, we're going to be fine. I know Allistor and Alfred want me dead because of our relationship, but if worst come to worse and we have to explain this child, then I'll be prepared. I'll do anything to stay with you. We'll be together like always."

_"Like always…"_ Francis chuckled, hiding the faltering in his smile by pecking a little smooch to Arthur's lips. If they were 'always' together, then he could just as easily say that Arthur was 'always' in a good mood, or that he was 'always' pleasant to be around. His lover always snapped at him, moody as he was, and when he wasn't moody he was often sick. On the rare occasions Arthur was in a good mood it was often spoiled by Francis's absence, and in the even rarer event that the two were together Francis often had to leave only moments later. This would probably be the first time in ages that they had really gotten to be together, although with their upcoming holiday they could only hope that they'd get more time like this. Mostly undetected by Arthur, however, Francis had been piecing together a nursery for their child in the room they had picked. He frowned a bit when he saw Arthur's face, dark circles and unnoticed tears slipping down his cheeks. "Cher, I promise, we're going to be okay...I'll do anything to keep it that way. But...It's...It's going to be hard to explain all of this. We'll only tell Peter that he's going to be an uncle and let everyone else find out slowly. You should be happy, you're going to see the people you love." Francis smiled sadly. He would hate to see Arthur yelled at or in trouble with the people who loved him, the people who he missed and adored and hadn't seen in ages. For all they knew, Arthur had become like Francis's little pet or something over the past five months. This was something Francis was eager to disprove. "You'll see, everything will be wonderful."

Arthur frowned and shook his head. "No, if we tell Peter he'll just tell everyone else… our best hope would probably be to assume Alfred will comment on how fat I've gotten and that Allistor will let us leave it at that." He sighed, turning his upper body so that he could snuggle up to Francis. If such a comment was made it wouldn't be the first time Alfred had shown concern over Arthur's weight. He had often snuck him food and nagged him about how thin he was, and how nice as a lady with a slim waist was he'd like to see Arthur with more 'meat on his bones' (such comments usually resulted in Alfred earning a slap across the face and Arthur scarfing down whatever sweet he'd been brought while Alfred recovered.) When compared with him, Alfred could make anyone look like an anorexic, especially someone who ate as little as Arthur. Truth be told, Arthur had been not only eating less these days but believed he had a good reason for doing so; he couldn't seem to think of his new waistline as anything but extra weight. He knew it was a baby, but he just didn't think of it as such. It didn't feel like there was something living inside of him, a tiny new life which required more food. Arthur often ignored his hunger to the point that it no longer bothered him, although his weight had stayed about the same since he started living with Francis, it may have even gone up a bit. He gave another long, heavy sigh and let one arm wrap around Francis, his head resting in the space between his arm and his torso. He heaved himself over so that his belly faced Francis.

"Tell me Francis, and be honest, am I horribly ugly?" he mumbled, looking up at him. The state of his body coupled with the desperate, hollow look in his eyes made it difficult to say no, but Francis managed.

"Non. You've only become more alluring. You have our child inside of you, how can I see that as anything but beautiful? Although on the topic of our child, I think that we have to tell someone. If we keep it a secret, how would we explain if they see us months later with a baby? Most of the castle here knows after all…" He traced a hand down Arthur's pristine figure. Both of their bodies had changed since their first meeting. Arthur's muscles had started to fade and, not being replaced with any fat, he would have become quite thin were it not for the child. His arms and legs had become creamy white but had gone from slender to practically bony. He would have been alright with it if it had been caused by Arthur's feeling sick, but if he was intentionally starving himself it would just break Francis's heart. Francis himself, on the other hand, had also undergone some physical change. In contrast to Arthur, however, he looked better than ever. He'd become stronger, his skin tanned slightly from hours in the sun and his hands roughened like fine sandpaper. He was starting to look like a man. "Arthur, you've been eating haven't you? And getting your rest?" Arthur stared at him a moment, mouth slightly agape, before his eyes darted away.

"W-well, I…" he hesitated a moment. "I have at least been trying to, but…y-you see, I keep waking up in th-the middle of the night, and... w-well, I read my book a bit, and then I'm not tired anymore, and you always get up so early, and..." he trailed off, hoping to avoid the topic of food. He couldn't deny that he _loved_ all of the food served to him- in fact it was probably his favorite thing about living there- but it always made him feel like such a glutton. Of the two chefs that worked in the kitchen most hours of the day, the eldest Yolanda, would often pull him aside. Despite his royal status she wasn't afraid to pull him by the ear to the kitchen, sit him down with a large piece of cake or something else delicious and not allow him to leave until he had finished every bite. Sometimes she would even make him eat two. It was ironic really; he had never had access to so much food in all of his life, and yet now that he did he was almost afraid to ask for any for fear of being seen as a pig. He had heard tell that in some places the nobles would eat such large meals that they would throw up to empty their stomachs for more. The idea revolted him, making him shudder at the mere thought. "Ah, l-let's just not think about it now…" Francis frowned inwardly but, weighing his options, decided it was better not to ruin his special Arthur time.

"…Oui, if you insist, but please be sure you're staying healthy." He mumbled. As far as he knew Arthur would be alright though, if he started eating more. He didn't drink-unless he had discovered the decanter hidden under the bed, if so it was unknown to Francis- and the worst of his injuries had long since healed. He barely needed makeup to cover himself anymore. "Well, I suppose that all that really matters anyway is that you and the child are well..." he chuckled, combing his fingers playfully through Arthur's hair. "I have been thinking, and I've made a decision; I want our child to be a little boy." In truth he wanted the child to be just like Peter, but he wouldn't say it. "I haven't thought of names yet..." He laughed a little. "However...This child will just be like us...blood and mind. That's what is important." He glanced out the window, watching the falling snow. The tower had a bunch of owls flying over it as if they were all catching snow mice. Arthur had gone there to be able to have children, and Francis wondered if they could have some magic that would protect him and his starting family. However, he had gone this far as to make Arthur drive himself to such a thing, and he thought that perhaps it was too much. "I hope spring comes soon." He muttered, off topic.

Arthur found himself speechless again from the confidence in Francis's voice. _"He can't really mean it, can he?"_ he thought. Surely Francis knew just as well as anyone else that Arthur had no control over the gender of the child, although it wouldn't matter; if he couldn't give Francis exactly what he wanted he was sure he'd be blamed for it. He had heard stories of men- even rumors about his own father- who would kill their wives were they not given a boy as their firstborn, things that were always whispered and joked about but which terrified him now. He couldn't stand the thought of losing his life at Francis's hands because of something so trivial, of being rejected and likely killed from something he had no control over. He rolled onto his back again, away from Francis's grip. "Y-you wouldn't be mad though, i-if it t-turned out not to be a boy, w-would you…?" he asked. Francis sat up a bit, allowing Arthur to wiggle from his grip.

"I don't mind either, I'd just prefer-" he started, but Arthur was gone. Pain had begun to grip his insides and he decided that he didn't want to wait to hear his answer anyway, jumping up and running from their room to the bathroom down the hall. He found himself gagging almost the entire way there, clenching a hand over his mouth until he reached the room and slammed the door shut behind him. A bucket sat in the corner- the servants had placed it there for just such purposes as these- and he all but collapsed at its side, coughing and choking before the contents of his stomach rose to his throat and poured from his mouth. The process repeated itself until a foul-smelling, brownish liquid filled about half of the bucket. The churning, aching pain in his stomach did lessen a bit once it was empty, but as always he got shivers when it was over. Half-heartedly he wiped his mouth on his sleeve, easing back against the wall.

It took Francis a few moments to process what had happened, not snapping from his thoughts until he heard the door slam far away. He huffed a sigh and slowly heaved himself out of bed, not bothering to rush as he had the first few times. He did want a son, although he'd love their child no matter what it was he only wanted a boy because it was what he was used to. The only women he'd had in his life were Jeanne and his mother. When he had pulled on a bathrobe he went to join Arthur in the bathroom, kneeling at his side and pulling him into his arms, the robe blanketing him like a pair of wings. "I've no official business to attend to today, and very little work. If you'd like, we could do something together…" he offered. Arthur was quiet a few moments, snuggling up to him and coughing weakly before speaking again.

"W-well… i-if it's possible, I would like to come with you to the town today. You always speak of such adventures there, such fun you have, but I feel like I never get to see you. I-it might be nice to go with you instead, cut out the middle man…" he chuckled.

"Certainly." Francis chuckled, pulling his lover into his lap. "I don't believe I'm doing anything too strenuous today, just reading for some children." A small grin overtook his expression. "You'll just love the village. It's not far from here, a little place called Wayfall." His hands worked their way to Arthur's shoulders as he watched the younger man's eyes slip closed, kneading his frail shoulder blades. "It's simply lovely at this time of year. They've had snow a little longer than us so the children have had plenty of time to play in it, they clear all of the streets to build forts and things in front of the shops, it's the sweetest thing... There isn't much of a guard though, just the men who take shifts from day to day watching the gate. The village itself is run by an old widow, a red-haired woman called "The noble Kay", I believe…" he scooped Arthur up, wrapped his legs around his own waist, and carried him from the bathroom back to their bedroom. "We'll get dressed, and we can leave when you're ready, oui?" Arthur gave him a nod, his face turning a soft pink.

"Y-yes, I'd like to leave as soon as possible…" he mumbled, dropping easily from his arms when they reached their room again. He immediately went to the closet and took his favorite dress- although he still cursed himself for _having_ a favorite dress- and a little pair of green slippers, along with boots for the snow. Francis helped him strip off his nightclothes, fold them somewhat neatly, and then toss them aside to be worn that night. This habit of re-wearing the same clothes was something that Arthur had insisted on, and though Francis thought he should have done otherwise the servants appreciated the lessening of laundry.

"Francis, you know I can dress myself just fine…" he muttered, squirming a bit as Francis helped him into the hoops. Admittedly it had become difficult now with his belly, and there was no doubt it would only get even more so, but he was still capable of doing so. Francis just chuckled and pecked a kiss to his jawline.

"I'm happy to help mon amour, you'll have to get used to accepting help with dressing anyway." He chuckled. "Come on now, let's get finished up…"

…

A soft sprinkling of snow whipped past Arthur's face as the hood on his cloak fell from his face. Had he known they would be getting to the village by horse he realized he should have thought twice before accompanying his spouse- although he knew he would have come anyway. His arms were wrapped around Francis's middle so tightly that he genuinely feared crushing the other like a boa constrictor would a mouse, but by the time he started actually worrying about this happening they had reached the village gates. He glanced around, his arms slowly snaking back to his sides with a nervous little chuckle.

"Heh… th-that was nice…" he mumbled. Francis smiled knowingly and took his hand, leading him up to the humble stone archway. Inside there was a long cobblestone road lined with little shops and restaurants. In front of each shop sat snowmen, two or three each, dressed up like people. Several stood at attention just outside the gates, watching for intruders while holding wooden shields, each featuring a different image; a bunny, a cloud, a sword, some indistinct splatters and blobs of color, a stag, another bunny… a humorous little smirk overtook Arthur's expression. The efforts of the village's children were displayed in such ways all the way down the street up until it reached the end, where the road turned off in two different directions like a 'T' as if driven aside by the colossal building that sat centered before the end of the road. In front of the building stood a wrought-iron gate, and in front of that the road was nearly completely clear of snow. Children ran, chased, talked with, played with each other here. Some areas of the snow was stained a different color- red, yellow, green, violet, cerulean- and cans of cheap paint sat around with partially frozen paintsicles dripping from their paintbrushes. Arthur ran around the street looking at the snowmen, his smirk spreading into a wide grin.

"Francis, this place is amazing!" he laughed, running to the other and throwing his arms around his neck in a hug. Francis swept him up, spun with him once, and set him down. He had also taken a moment to admire the new snowmen, particularly the ones outside the gate.

"Clever of those children it was, stationing some of them out there to protect them." He chuckled. They knew well that the town had no official guards, and the ones they had made were armed with long sticks and rulers and angry faces. When Arthur had regained his balance Francis pulled him back-first into his arms, his nose tickling the back of his neck. "I often wish we could live in this place, raise our child here… it's never quite the same, but it's beautiful here all year long." He whispered. Arthur squirmed playfully in his arms, escaping only after letting Francis press a kiss to his cheek. Small, shrill voiced caught both of their attentions, and upon looking down the street they saw a small group of children running to greet them, calling "Mister Bonnefoy, mister Bonnefoy!" Francis watched them approach and knelt down to eye-level with them, opening his arms to let the smallest of them run up and hug him as Arthur had only a minute ago.

"Bonjour children, how have all of you been?" he laughed. His words were met with a chattering blurb of replies, mostly positive, and all following with questions about the 'woman' who was with him. "Ah, I'm here with my beautiful wife. Everyone say hello to Alice." The children's attention turned to 'Alice', a few running to hug his legs through the green silk dress. A small, ginger-haired girl looked up at him with wide, wondering eyes, giving him a grin that showed a gap where her front teeth should be.

"Are you a princess? I want to be one too." She stood up on her toes with happy tears in her eyes. "I'm telling whoever adopts me that I met a princess. A really pretty one named Alice." Arthur chuckled, kneeling down carefully as not to strain himself.

"Well young lady, I think that you would make a wonderful princess." He smoothed back her hair, a little fluttering starting in his heart when he watched her seem to swell with joy. She hopped up and hugged him, her face smothering against the chest padding in his corset before she skipped off, giggling like she had just been promised a pony for Christmas. Arthur pulled himself back up, reaching for Francis's gloved hand and letting his eyes drift around all of the children. "Oh, they're all just the cutest little things…" his gaze finally found its way down to the bump in his belly. He hoped that their child was at least half as sweet as any of these children were, although if what Francis had told him about the town was true hopefully not an orphan. He glanced up, the large building at the end of the road capturing his gaze. "Francis, what is that place? The big one at the end of the street, with the paint outside, it is a school or…?" he frowned thoughtfully. Francis just laughed and gave his hand a squeeze.

"Only time will tell…" he murmured, watching a few children run to then and hug Arthur and himself. He leaned down and ruffled their hair before watching them run off. Once they were gone he straightened up again. "The one at the end of the street? Well, that's the orphanage." He whispered. "All the travelers mistake it for a school as well. Most of the children here are from servants in other kingdoms who didn't have enough time to clean and watch over their child. But it used to be a school until so many children came here that it became an orphanage." He chuckled, his cerulean eyes meeting Arthur's lime ones for a few seconds before a smirk spread across his lips.

"You know, they have a cute little teashop just up there on the corner. Let's go see it, oui?" He pressed his lips to Arthur's in not-quite-a kiss as he watched his confused expression turn to one of excitement.

"Why didn't you mention that earlier?" Arthur looked around, starting for the corner lot with a teacup-shaped sign on it. Francis laughed, nearly having to run to keep up with him. When he did manage to get ahead of his lover he stopped him, pulling the door open like a 'gentleman' for him and earning a giggle from the other. It wasn't like any teahouse Arthur had heard about. There were a dozen short, colorful tables throughout the room and a stage at the far side of the room. A little play seemed to be going on, but the actors looked more like they were goofing around than actually performing. They were laughing with every line, and the audience laughed with them. Most of the tables were full except for- what looked like in the dim light- the green one, at which the couple took their seats. Two cups of tea were set in front of them. Francis took a little spoon and scooped some sugar into his cup, stirring it as he watched Arthur sip his.

"So, mon amour, what do you think of this little place?" he asked, drawing the other's attention away from his teacup. Arthur thought a moment, his eyes skimming the crowd. Most wore the colors of their kingdom, be it red, blue, gray, gold, indigo, or rose, sitting at the corresponding table or with friends at another.

"Well… I'm wondering how all of this is possible." His voice was hushed as not to disturb anyone. "I mean, some of these people are from lands I've only heard of in stories, and some not even that. Never have I seen so many conflicting peoples gathered peacefully in one place… it's like an impossible thing come to life, so what is it that makes it possible?" His eyes rested on his spouse. Francis, who had taken only a small sip of his own tea before it had burned him, was also looking at Arthur. A knowing little smile overtook his lips.

"Ah..." He said, the throbbing heat in his throat making it difficult to talk at first. "Actually this used to be a horse farm." He said in a gentle tone, his eyes flashing. "A man named Felix owned it. He was unusual...saying he wanted to turn this area into a village of ponies, pink, and chess. But his dream came true after he was made hostage because somehow the head queen decided to own this land and make something out of it. They started by reading the man's journals and breeding his horses. Eventually all of the kingdoms came together to bring supplies, medicine, wood, you name it, for construction, and thus, Wayfall was born." Francis was glad he could say that clearly, even though mostly the burning of his tongue was holding back his accent. "They considered making this into a kingdom, but almost all the colors were taken already...even pink." He sighed lightly, looking down. "Mon amis got to meet Felix. He was such a nice man..." He reminisced, giving a small, sad sigh. "But that's all, really. There are so many stores here for children though. I had no idea this would become an orphan village…" He stared down into his cup, watching the little tendrils of steam swirl up as Arthur processed what he'd just heard. Arthur's gaze slowly drifted to the window.

"I'm sure that Felix would have been very proud of the way things have turned out here…" he mumbled, although he already had ideas in his head of why so many kingdoms would contribute; Each did it because someone else was doing it, and nobody wanted to be outdone by anyone else so they all just gave as much as they could to seem generous, and each kingdom more generous than its neighbor. It didn't seem so unreasonable a though really, he knew that if his own parents had the power they would likely have done the same. A little grin tugged at the corners of his mouth, but faded when he saw… something. In the window, it had looked almost like a face, eyes fixed on his table, before it disappeared in a flash of cerulean. He blinked, staring at the spot even after it had gone. Surely it had just been a child or something? Yes, that had to be it. Now that he thought about it, there weren't any snowmen outside of this building, were there? That was it, it was a child, peeking in at "mister Bonnefoy" and his wife before being tugged back. With that thought planted safely in his head he sighed blissfully, his gaze still fixed absently on the lowest row of snowy windowpanes. It didn't take Francis more than a minute or so to realize that his beloved wasn't watching the show, and following his gaze he found himself staring at the exact same blurry glass pane.

"You know, Arthur…" he started, taking the other's straying eyes as a sign of disinterest. "There are quite a few children's shops around town and… well, the nursery is looking a little bare." This caught the younger prince's attention.

"Might I be able to help fill it up?" he asked, grinning eagerly. "I've been meaning to check on it but… well, I always forget where it is, and by the time I remember I've always occupied myself with something else." Arthur usually only got to leave his own room when he needed something, and even then it wasn't often that he got to do so alone. The castle's guards and servants had apparently been instructed not to leave him 'unattended', and there was really only one place where he did get to go on his own; the magician's tower. He could always make some medical excuse and then spend hours and hours there, talking with the magician or even just taking his book up there and reading where it was quieter. Arthur took a sip of his tea and ended up finishing it in one gulp. As nice as the place was, it was a bit crowded and stuffy for his liking, and he didn't understand the play at all. He'd much rather be out looking at the shops. "Can we go soon? Or rather right now?" he asked. Francis nodded, taking his beloved's hand.

"Oui, we can." They stood together, both happy to get out of the little place. Francis was a bit glad that the room would remain a surprise a little longer. Its walls and floor had been painted blue and green like sky and grass. The little dresser that had been there before still remained, painted the same white as the crib Francis had built. They both looked like clouds against the blue 'sky'. "I'll be happy to show you what it looks like when we get home." He squeezed Arthur's hand, wishing he had his gloves as the cold air reached them again. Wordlessly Francis gestured for Arthur to pick a shop, and once the chipped pastel paint of one caught his attention they both ran to it. It seemed as if the snow was really picking up. Francis had never been inside the store but always had his eye on it, wondering what wonders the seemingly archaic place could hold. As it turned out, most of the things inside could be sorted into three categories; wooden toys, stuffed dolls, and books. Many of them looked quite old; The edges of the little carved carriages and horses and ducks on strings were soft and free of paint, some completely bare of color. The stuffed animals were a bit faded as well, although everything was free of dust so they just looked as if they were supposed to be that way. While they hardly looked like toys befitting a young prince or princess Arthur found them all just charming. Many of the books he hadn't even heard of. Being the only ones there- and by the looks of it, the only ones who had been there in ages- they caught the attention of the elderly woman behind the counter. Arthur sent her a little smile and Francis, who was looking at stuffed animals, didn't notice her at first at all until she spoke.

"Buying Christmas gifts?" she asked. Francis glanced up.

"Non, we're actually expecting." He replied, walking to the counter with a stuffed cyan rabbit in his hands. The woman nodded.

"Ah, congratulations young man. A bit young for that though, aren't you?" The two laughed and Francis went back to looking at toys, leaving the rabbit on the counter. The woman's attention shifted to Arthur and approached him. "Well, you certainly must be the mother. When are you due, my dear?" she asked. Arthur jumped, glanced at her, and cleared his throat.

"A-ah, I would think a few months…" he mumbled, his face turning light pink. He really couldn't talk about it much without being embarrassed. The idea of a tiny new life living inside of him was still a foreign though to him, even with the slight swelling in his belly and the servants asking him about it end even touching it if he allowed them. Luckily the woman picked up on this and let him be, going back to the counter before he started blushing madly. He picked up a book and hid his face in it. When he was sure she was gone he set the book down. He almost walked away from it before he caught sight of the cover; it was a green, leather-bound book with a picture of a young man on the cover. It beautiful white letters across the top were scrolled the words "_The White Snake_". Arthur glanced through the first few pages, a little smile slipping across his lips. He took the book to his husband and showed it to him.

"Can I get this for Peter? I haven't gotten him a present yet…" he whispered. Francis stared at the book for a moment.

"Oui, I suppose. It would be unfitting for you not to bring him anything on such an occasion as Christmas." He chuckled, taking both the rabbit and the book to the counter. The woman, having been listening to them, wrapped each object in separately- the book in colored foil and the winged rabbit in a little box… and then colored foil. Neither princes really looked at each other's item, both watching as the woman wrapped what they had picked. Arthur felt that if he were much younger he would have wanted to see some of those things be for him for Christmas. Even such a thing as the small, slightly beat-up bunny Francis had chosen would have been welcome to him in the castle's dungeons. He glanced around, his gaze grazing every object in the shop. He couldn't wait to get home and see the room Francis had prepared. The toy store made him wish he could remember having a room like that when he was younger.

Within a few minutes they were able to leave the shop, taking their time up the now empty streets of the little village. A bit of a snowstorm was starting, and all of the children had gone back inside of the orphanage. Arthur was envisioning Peter's sweet face when he received the his book along with whatever Francis had gotten him. This Christmas would be wonderful, he was sure of it; it would be his first proper Christmas in a while, and possibly Peter's first ever, and he would be spending it with his family. He hadn't even known it was Christmas until a while later the previous year, when spring came and talk of summer was in the air, and he had been completely alone. He sighed, letting his head fall against Francis's shoulder. He wished they had a scarf to share or something to keep the cold out. Empty carriages sat out along the streets, most in front of the tea house. He could only assume that it was some sort of haven away from the storm, but Francis passed it and Arthur followed. After all, he had mentioned some sort of work at the orphanage earlier. Arthur gave a little sigh, his warm breath making a puff of steam. Thinking about the lonely Christmases of years past brought on a sour mood. Eventually his thoughts drifted to just a few says ago, possibly the previous week, the last time they had spent this much time together. They'd been arguing over something, Arthur had been in another such mood and Francis had said something that he just couldn't stand… He seemed to remember drinking a little, just a little, either before or after to ease the pain of his absence. He gave another attention-seeking sigh. A few moments of walking passed before either prince looked at the other. Francis noticed how quiet the other was being, and how he looked almost upset about something. He had almost completely forgotten their little squabble, deeming it unimportant and something worth being forgotten. His hand crawled across the other's back, resting on his hip and pulling him in a little closer. Arthur seemed… on-edge, uncomfortable, and even more so with Francis's hand in place. He hesitated, his arm stiffening and retracting to his side.

"Arthur…" he started quietly. Said prince showed that he was listening by straightening up a little. "Do you… do you really love me?" Arthur blinked, his head snapping up.

"Of course I do." He replied without a moment's consideration. After all, it wasn't as if he could _really_ say no, was it? He reached for the Red prince's hand and gave it a little squeeze, putting on a smile. "A-after all, if I didn't… w-well, I probably wouldn't have wanted to come with you today, would I?" he laughed a little, glancing around frantically for something to change the subject. Said change came in the form of the snowmen lining the streets the closer they got to the orphanage. Some acted out little scenes, all quite interesting; dancing, sparring, a little tea party, and what appeared to be a few smaller ones fighting a snow dragon. "Goodness, who taught these children to build like this…?" he muttered. He released Francis's hand to get a better look at the dragon. Icicle teeth were stuck in its mouth, presumably pulled from rooftops, and it had a long, scraggly stick poking out of the back of its throat that Arthur could only assume was supposed to be like fire. "It really is fantastic…" Francis nodded, moving to his side again. He was glad to hear that Arthur felt the way he did. He leaned in and pecked a kiss to his beloved prince's cheek before placing one hand on his belly bump and intertwining their fingers on the other. Arthur glanced at him cautiously but Francis just chuckled.

"They are quite creative, non?" he commented, leading Arthur towards the building again. "I think it has to do with all of the fairy tales they're read… Perhaps they'll hear one today." He glanced up. The 'day' in today was beginning to fade, turning into the evening. They must have spent more time in the tea shop than they had thought. Where on earth had the time gone? He glanced behind him. He could barely see anything. There really must have been some sort of storm setting in, because he could only barely see down the street. Snow blew around them, not unlike a very weak blizzard. He could see the snowmen across the street, the doors to about two or three stores, a flash of blue—and then it was gone, replaced with a splattering of red. Francis's grip on Arthur slackened. The former Green prince turned to him in time to see him fall to his knees, a small pocket-sized blade laying in the snow beside him. He gasped, kneeling down to look over him.

"Francis, A-are you alright?" he asked. Francis coughed weakly but managed a nod.

"S-someone… or something attacked me!" he growled, his teeth gritted together in pain. The weapon hadn't stuck in his body. Whoever the alleged almost-assassin was they obviously weren't a professional. They barely grazed the blond's cheek, barely enough to cause a serious injury but plenty to send Arthur into a panic. Francis glanced around, his eye catching on a gleam of red in the snow- the weapon- but there wasn't a trace of the blue flash in sight.

"Are you alright?" he knelt down, pulling a handkerchief out of his shirtfront and dabbing away the blood. "Th-this morning you told me you thought someone was after you, b-but I wasn't sure I believed you… o-oh dear, you're bleeding quite badly. I-is there a doctor or something that I can take you to?" he looked around frantically. The flash of blue… no, that was impossible. It must have been his imagination. That had to be it. There was no way that either of the Blue princes would come out, in broad daylight… well, not so much daylight now.

"Merci…" he muttered. "And a doctor… y-yes, we should find one… p-perhaps we should start back home, a-and get to the tower?" Arthur frowned.

"Don't be ridiculous, it's much too far, and in this weather and with that injury…" he trailed off, shaking his head. It wasn't as if he was afraid of the horse or anything, he just… was concerned, about the weather. And about Francis. "I-if you'd like though, I can go finish up your work at the orphanage a-and you can go." He added hopefully. Francis shook his head.

"Non, I can not leave you alone if such things as this are happening… Th-the orphanage does have a nurse though, a-and I'm sure she'd be willing to tend to me i-if you'd like to read." He gave the smaller prince a smile and a peck on the cheek, which turned into one on the lips when Arthur turned his head but it's not as if either party was complaining. Francis managed to sneak a hand around Arthur's waist during this, leading him through the gate and up the steps to the orphanage. The children had long since come inside, most either asleep or snuggled up in little groups, laying under blankets with little pillows and stuffed animals. Neither prince could help smiling at the sight. A few of them looked up and nudged the others around them when they saw the scar forming on Francis's face. Francis gave them a little wave and started to walk away but stopped, giving his 'wife' a little hug and resting his chin on his shoulder.

"You're warm…" he whispered, his lips grazing Arthur's jaw and sending shivers up the Green prince's spine as he pulled away. Arthur was left standing there for a few seconds before he stepped down into the mass of children, a few running up to him holding storybooks. He chuckled, looking over each one. They each vied for his attention, their voices hushed only slightly in hopes of not waking the other children although not quite succeeding. Arthur shushed them and chuckled.

"Now then, how about I choose a book?" he smiled. The children, although disappointed, accepted this. Arthur waded through the mass of small children- although some of them were nearly his own age- to a tall bookshelf. A few of the books were out of reach, some with good reason, but one in particular caught his eye; _"The White Snake"_

"Oh, I've seen this one before!" he lifted it off of the shelf and showed it around to the children. "I believe that you'll all enjoy it. Come on, sit down and I'll read it…" he looked around before noticing an unoccupied chair in the center of where the children sat, presumably there for the reader. He took a seat there and opened the book to the first page. The story went on about a young man who worked for a wise king, although he discovered the root of the king's knowledge was in consuming a different white snake each day. Out of curiosity the boy tried one himself and found that it gave him the power to talk to animals. Various misadventures ensued, each more enthralling than the one before it, and all longer and longer as they went. About halfway through the book Arthur happened to glance up and notice that most of the children had fallen asleep. "So soon…?" he frowned, his gaze drifting around the mass of children until it reached a clock; nine-thirty. He blinked. There was no way he had been reading that long. What had become of Francis, had he left? Or had he just gone somewhere without him? Arthur shut the book and set it aside, once again navigating through the maze of little arms and legs and torsos with some difficulty to the door and pushing it open. The small storm that had started earlier had gotten worse, making it nearly impossible to see even to the gate. Arthur dashed out, following the street lamps. They were few and far apart, one every few shops, and with the snow piling up to his knees he found himself getting slower and slower and colder and colder and eventually he was lost. How was it even possible to become lost in such a small town? He shuddered, calling out for his husband. His shouts were lost to the wind. He continued to trudge through the snow, going street lamp to street lamp to street lamp until he noticed one in particular, the one by the town's second gate, was a flash of gold. Upon closer examination he found that it was golden hair. He ran to it, stopping only a few feet away.

"F-Francis?" he called, attempting to make his voice a little higher to sound feminine, just in case. The person who owned the mop of blonde hair turned. Their cerulean eyes looked him over hungrily, running along his cloakless figure until it reached his shocked face. A little smirk overtook the wearer's expression as he and Arthur took small steps toward each other, the green prince's mouth hanging agape. It wasn't possible. He had hoped that it wouldn't be him, but now that he was actually seeing him here, after so many months of being separate, it really did feel impossible.

"A…Alfred?"

...

Oooh, I bet you all thought I wasn't going to continue thiiiiis well you were WRONG~ I am totally back on this story! Although reviews are nice, kinda makes me feel like you're reading this and I'm not taking a metaphorical piss in the wind...


	7. Alfred

Francis had ended up doing a little bit of exploring after having his face bandaged. As often as he visited the little town of Wayfall he barely entered the orphanage itself. He found some of the small children and the less fortunate ones who were ill and couldn't play in the snow, and those who simply didn't know he was there, and he, like Arthur, barely noticed the passage of time. It wasn't long after Arthur had left, however, when he returned to the orphanage entrance. Children lay around on the floor, some sharing blankets and others just curled up to one another. Several even sat by the chair, looking through the book and whispering among themselves. As he let his gaze drift around them a small smile tugged at the corners of his lips, but it faded when he found that Arthur was gone. The children that were still awake approached him for good-night hugs and he almost pushed them away.

"Wh-where's Ar—Alice?" he whispered, kneeling down.

"Miss Alice?" one of the children repeated. A small girl with a curly red mop of hair, now taken out of their braids. "She left a little while ago." The children took their hugs from a shocked, gaping Francis and returned to the book.

_Left? Where would he have gone? _He glanced at the door. Arthur's cloak was still there, as well as the bags with the things they had gotten. He frowned and grabbed them both before running outside. A blinding rage of snow and wind attacked him the moment he stepped out, but he could just barely make out the lights of the street lamps he knew so well. _Perhaps the gate?_ He trudged through the snow, practically running with the cloak stuffed into the bag and the bag thrown over his arm. He called out for 'Alice', just in case there were any onlookers of people around to hear.

_…_

Alfred took longer, more confident snow-crushing steps toward Arthur, a smile warm enough to melt the storm itself painted across his lips.

"Alice…" he chuckled. Arthur just stared, gaped, his eyes fixed on his once-best friend as he was pulled into his arms. He vaguely noticed that his name was being called from far away, somewhere in the storm, but he didn't respond. Alfred looked Arthur over, his eyes traveling down the length of his body and stopping abruptly when he reached his belly. His expression softened. "Alice, this… th-this isn't your fault. I'm so sorry…" he whispered. The smaller prince's eyes only had half a second to dart downward before he was embraced again. Just being there in Alfred's arms made him feel younger, safer, calmer, and… slightly lightheaded. He tried to pull himself away only to discover that he was starting to pass out, stumbling back into Alfred's arms in time for Francis to catch up to them. The Red and Blue prince's eyes met, resulting in scowls from both sides.

"What are you doing with him?" Francis growled, his eyes darting to Arthur every few seconds. "Is he dead? Did you kill him?" Alfred scoffed.

"_She_ is just fine, you idiot, just unconscious." He spat back, although one hand drifted up Arthur's chest to where his chest rose and fell with breath. A grin tugged at his lips for no more than a few seconds before he glared back up at Francis. "But what would you care? With the way you've treated her, you monster, you've done this to her… I heard it all. The way she cried in the morning when she found herself there at your side, sobbing through the night, praying that nothing would happen, that she'd be saved from that living hell of a life you've given her… along with this revolting child of yours."

"The way _I've_ treated her?" he laughed, not just because of Alfred's stupid comment but because he actually believed Arthur to be female. Perhaps they weren't as close as Arthur seemed to think? "I don't even want to know why you were listening, the thought of it alone frankly sickens me…" He rolled his eyes, but a pang of guilt hit him when he spoke of 'Alice' crying after their… lovemaking. "I-I couldn't control myself…" he muttered, his gaze drifting up to his beloved prince's belly. "A-and it's not revolting. It's our child, our miracle. It makes us happy, and we love it." He stepped forward. "And I know that I may not be the best person ever, especially not to her, but I love her, more than anything else in the world. Not something I'd expect a child like you to understand…" Cerulean eyes met for several long moments before Alfred scowled, shaking his head.

"You must really not know anything about her if that's what you think. She'd never let something like this happen to herself, especially not with a pig like you… not unless you forced her into it." He cradled Arthur in his arms and pressed their lips together in not-quite-a-kiss. "We've been together practically all of our lives, since we were small children. I was promised that someday when we were older we could be married, but then you had to come along and ruin everything. You had to start that war, and tear her away from me… and I'm never going to let you have a chance like that again." He snarled, swinging Arthur over his shoulder and taking off towards the gate. Francis gasped and ran after him.

"Y-you bastard, be careful, sh-she's with child! How can you say you love her wh-when you keep her in such a condition?" he shouted. "Sh-she's passed out and you haven't done a thing to wake her up, a-and you aren't even k-keeping her warm!" The last of his words were lost to the wind. He hated having to replace all of the 'he's and 'his's with 'she's and 'her's, but he was afraid of what Alfred would do when he found out. Besides, he couldn't afford to correct himself, being nearly out of breath and Alfred already getting ahead of him.

Arthur gave a soft groan, drawing the Blue prince's attention for a second. He stopped, waited for movement, and kept running.

"Don't worry Alice, you'll be safe soon…" he whispered, grinning a bit as he saw his carriage coming into view. He hopped up threw the door open, carefully laying Arthur out on the first inside seat. He took one of 'her' hands into his own and pressed his lips to it. "Alice, my dear, my love, I promise that once we're away from that Red cretin I can give you the life you deserve, with your family and me and you to rule by my side…" He let a grin appear, feeling Arthur's fingers twitch. His eyes slowly fluttered open, drifting around the tiny carriage and landing on Alfred. It took him a moment to remember where he was or what he was doing there, but when he did he sat up so suddenly that were he any taller he would have smacked his head on the carriage roof. The Blue prince just laughed and took his hand, pecking a kiss to it. "Don't worry dear, we'll be going back home now… _our_ home." He hopped out of the carriage and into the driver's seat, shutting the door softly behind him. Arthur stared at the place he had been until the carriage jolted him from his seat, scrambling to get back up. He didn't want this. Sure, he had his doubts about Francis, but he hadn't wanted to get kidnapped. He braced his arms against the walls to steady himself as he attempted to stand, making his way to the door. The ground rushed past them, snow whipping against his face as he poked out his head. He looked behind them; there was no sign of Francis, or of the little village, or of anything but the snow flying away. He gulped, his eyes darting downward. There was a small step attached to the base of the door, presumably to help one get into the carriage but barely big enough for a single foot. He poked at it with the base of his slipper and swore he felt it creak. Alfred didn't seem to notice so he shifted all of his weight onto the one foot. This was what caught the Blue Prince's attention. He turned just in time to see Arthur placing his second foot on the tiny step and closing the carriage door behind him. A look of horror crossed his face.

"Alice, what are you doing?" he grabbed Arthur's arm. Arthur shot a glare at him and instinctively pulled himself away. The mere force of his action was enough to shift his balance, sending him tumbling off of the step and into the deep snow. Alfred gasped, yanking on the reins with all his might, his eyes still fixed on the little green speck in the snow of Arthur's dress as it disappeared into the frigid cold night.

…

Francis trudged on after them, shivering from the cold that easily blew past his coat. It only worsened as he tripped and collapsed into the snow. He had nearly lost hope in catching up to Arthur. Francis, while his body didn't show it, was in a constant delicate medical state, easily catching cold or getting injured and even more easily getting tired. He coughed slightly pinkish saliva onto the snow below him before letting his head fall. That was it, he'd lost them. Arthur was gone. Tears leaked from the corners of his eyes. He could feel his heart starting to crumble inside of his chest, a horrible, sharp aching feeling rising with it.

"A-Arthur…" he sobbed, throwing his arms out into the snow beside himself. There was a large lump of snow beside him, and upon brushing some of it away he found it to be a body. "H-how awful, someone j-just dumped them aside…" he mumbled. He didn't bother looking at the face, his hand resting somewhere around their middle and wandering absently. They were round, he could tell that much, but not in the sense that they were fat, it was… firm. His brow furrowed as he felt out the rest of the figure; thin arms, skin practically clinging to bones save for the chest where it sagged slightly… he blinked, pulling himself up over the figure. Butter-blonde hair that hung over their face, a pea-green dress with lace covering the skirts, and a beautiful little pair of green slippers clinging to their dainty feet. "Arthur?" he whispered. A flicker of a smile appeared on his lips but faded quickly when his beloved gave not a single sign of movement or response. "Cher…?" he watched the lifeless form of his 'wife' for a few seconds, then leaned in and pressed their lips together, hot tears running over their cheeks. "J-je suis… d-desole…" he let himself fall next to Arthur again, wrapping his arms around him. "D-desole, desole…" he didn't bother to stifle his sobs, even when the soft crunching of snow under boots reached his ears. He didn't react to being shoved away from Arthur's body other than looking at the person who had done such to find that- not surprisingly- it was Alfred. The Blue prince was kneeling over Arthur not unlike Francis had, only with his hands on her shoulders shaking her lightly.

"A-Alice… Alice, wake up…" he cried, waiting a few moments before pulling him into a sitting position. He tore Arthur's cloak from Francis's arms and wrapped it around his unmoving body before scooping him up. His gaze fell to Francis. "Sh-she has a much lower chance of surviving this that you do… I-I'm taking her first, th-then I'll get you. St-stay here." He growled, starting off in the direction he'd come. Francis groaned, attempting to sit up but only falling again. This was even worse than before. He'd had Arthur in his arms, he could have said goodbye if he had gotten the chance, and he had let Alfred take her away again, because he knew damn well that the Blue prince wouldn't come back for him. It was like his worst nightmares had combined with what he assumed to be Arthur's wildest fantasies. The moment was set on reply in his mind until he let his eyes flash open, feeling himself being lifted up by what at first he thought was the hand of death. It turned out to be the Blue prince, but whether this was a curse or a blessing remained to be seen. Francis coughed more pinkish liquid into his hand and looked up at him.

"B-Blue prince…" he whispered, his voice hoarse. "D-do not take my wife from me… i-if you must have her, l-let me at least join you in your castle. M-make me a servant, slave, I-I don't care…" he coughed again. Alfred glanced down at him but gave no response.

"Sh-she jumped off of th-the side of th-the carriage to get back to you…" he started, keeping his eyes off of Francis as he tossed him unceremoniously onto the carriage seat opposite Arthur's. "S-so I can only assume it would go to waste to let you d-die here… I-I'm sparing you just this once m-mind you, never again… Y-you keep her safe in here. I-if she dies, e-either now or with th-that damned child of yours, I swear it will be your head." He growled, starting to shut the door but stopping. "Y-your things are under the seats, a-as well as a g-gas lamp. K-keep yourselves warm, b-but if you lay so much as a finger on her i-it will be your blood that warms her." He nearly slammed the door before remembering 'Alice', shutting it softly and returning to his seat. He urged the horses to run as fast as they could.

When Francis was sure that Alfred was preoccupied with his horses he cautiously pressed the back of his hand to Arthur's forehead, frowning.

"Ice cold…" he mumbled, tugging up the cloak like a blanket. Arthur was, at least, moving a little; shivering violently counted as moment. It was better than the stillness that came with death. He sighed, settling the gas lamp onto a small hook on the carriage ceiling. This wasn't at all what their Christmas visit was supposed to be like. It was supposed to be fun and happy. He and Arthur weren't supposed to leave for another week, and they would be bringing presents and, if all went well, Francis would be attempting to befriend Arthur's family. Everyone would receive a gift, something Francis had chosen himself and had seen to that it would be perfect. He placed his hands against the glass of the lantern for a few seconds until they burned and holding them to Arthur's cheeks. Whatever it took to warm him up. His gaze darted to the small door for half a second before he leaned in, pecked a stealth-kiss to Arthur's forehead, and sat back up to repeat the hand-to-lantern process.

…

Alfred urged the horses on as the castle's light began to dance across his face. He needed to get Alice inside and taken care of, he needed to find somewhere to put Francis-preferably a different room than the one Alice had… he had to tell Allistor of his little slip-up. It went without saying that Allistor hated Francis, and Alfred didn't blame him; they had spent their past five months planning the man's death. They'd even joked about it being their Christmas present to each other as well as their kingdoms- but mostly each other. As he approached the gate a set of guards approached them to check the carriage, but seeing that it was only that of the Blue prince they let him pass. A thudding sound snapped Alfred from his aimless thoughts and he glanced to his side, nearly crying out in surprise when he saw the fire-haired Kirkland boy seated next to him.

"Wh-what the heck, where did you come from?" he hissed, glancing behind him. Allistor shrugged, gesturing back to the gate.

"Thought I'd just, y'know, drop in…" he mumbled, lighting a cigar. Alfred was about to question him when he remembered- and saw- the little border of stone around the gate, as well as a matchbox resting on the edge of the keystone. He rolled his eyes. "You got him today, didn't you? I'd like to see the body if you don't mind…" Alfred slowly sat back in his seat, giving the other an awkward little grin.

"Well, um… about that… uh, it can be discussed later. Y-your sister is in need of medical attention." Allistor raised an eyebrow.

"What's wrong with hi—her?" he asked, glancing back at the carriage door. He started to climb down from the seat, pausing only when Alfred grabbed his sleeve to push his hand away. "It's my br—sister, and if anyone's capable of checking on her condition it would be me." He tugged the door open and stared in, his eyes instantly meeting with those of the startled Francis. He pulled his hands away from Arthur and held them by his head as if to say 'I didn't touch her, don't kill me.' Allistor rolled his eyes and popped his head out of the carriage, glaring at Alfred.

"I thought that you were going to get rid of _him_…" he growled. Alfred sighed and scratched the back of his head.

"I was, but… I had to improvise, okay? Things just kind of happened, sh-she passed out in my arms and then he showed up and I didn't have time…" he probably said more but Allistor didn't care, nor did he listen. He'd likely get an explanation later anyway. Besides, his primary concern was his little brother. He placed a hand on him and started to check for any sign of life or injury; neck, cheeks, head, then finally his chest. He spared Francis a glance to see if he was opposed to it. The Red prince had his eyes fixed on his 'wife', debating with himself over whether or not it would be alright to take his hand or if Allistor would get mad.

"I feel a heartbeat." He said finally, drawing the blond's attention. "She's alive, but only barely. She needs medical attention." His frown started to fade as he let his hand wander down in search of injury. He felt strangely round in the belly, he could tell that much, but not in the sense that he had gotten fatter, his belly was… firm, like a perfect little sphere poking out of the once caved-in looking stomach. Allistor stared, his mouth hanging open in shock for a long few seconds before his eyes drifted back to Francis. It was if the fire in his hair had gone straight to his eyes as he gave Francis a glare so scalding hot that it was a wonder the entire carriage didn't burst into flames. Before the Red prince had time to react he was being grabbed by his shirt collar and shoved up against the wall.

"What the _**hell **_did you do to my little _brother_?" he growled. "There's no use denying it now, you obviously know what he is if you've done that to him." Francis opened his mouth to choke out a reply but the closest thing that came forth was more bloody saliva and a strangled cough.

"S-si vous plait, th-that… th-that's our child…" he whispered. "I-it is mine a-as well as his…" his breathing was shaky and ragged, at least when he got slight snatches of air in the half-seconds that Allistor's grip loosened. It had taken a great weight of fear off of his heart when he heard that his beloved Arthur would be alright, but he now feared that he wouldn't live to see it. Allistor let his grip slacken enough for the man to breath which helped a little, but he still held tightly to Francis's shirt collar.

"I swear to god, if he dies having that god damned child of yours…"

"H-he won't…" Francis coughed again, blinking a few times, and looking over Allistor's shoulder. "H-he's strong, s-so very strong… a-and I love them both t-too much to let either of th-them go—"

"But if he does." Allistor dropped him onto the seat with a thump, turning back around to face his brother. "Words alone can not describe the sorts of living hells Alfred and I can put you through in this fortress of a castle, and I assure you if you knew you would _wish_ you had come here in Arthur's place." He placed two fingers on Arthur's ribcage and pressed down hard enough to earn a small groan. His frown faltered. "Most certainly alive… but he needs a doctor. It can't be safe to move him yet, I'll have to go get a doctor for him and the… little one." he said the last words in a tone that was difficult to tell whether he was embarrassed or disgusted to say it.

"I… I-I may also be in need of a doctor…" Francis mumbled sheepishly. "I-I believe I was hit by something, possibly a horse or a cart wh-when I… w-well, when I was running after him." He coughed, attempting to roll onto his back in the seat. Allistor nodded absently and went on to check Arthur's legs and feet- finding nothing- and looking back up at his belly. He hesitated before raising his hand to it, delicately cupping the little bump and giving a small sigh. "I don't know much about birthing or raising children, but I do want this little one to survive. Not for you Red prince, for Arthur." He sighed. They were silent a while before the carriage came to a stop. A few little noises came from outside before Alfred's head appeared in the door. He looked near tears.

"Tell me she's going to be alright." He said quickly.

"She's alive." Allistor gently shoved his head back out, enough for him to see but not enough to see much. "Injured, obviously, but definitely alive. Go get her a doctor, will you?" he snapped his fingers, but Alfred was already going before the sound reached his ears. He watched him run away before turning back to Francis. Said young man had two fingers placed delicately to Arthur's cheek in a futile attempt to warm him without touching in a way that could be considered inappropriate.

"I… I don't want them to die…" he whispered, tears leaking from the corners of his eyes. Allistor's expression softened.

"Neither can I." He knelt by his brother again, brushing some hair away from his snow-soaked eyelashes. "If I lose him then I'll only have little Peter left, and… w-well, not to alarm you, but he's gotten sick. The doctor says that he doesn't look like there's much he can do to help, th-that we just have to watch him…" Francis, who was just beginning to control his tears, was now letting them flow freely.

"He's… sick?" he repeated, his eyes wide. "N-non, please tell me that Peter is alright… h-he'd be so excited to hear that Arthur is here." He'd planned to better his relationship with the boy and- hopefully- the family during their visit and show them that he wasn't the monstrous pig that Alfred surely made him out to be. No doubt the Blue prince had been planting images in their minds of things he had 'seen' Francis doing to Arthur- if nothing else than certainly the first night. He felt ashamed now thinking about it.

"He only wanted me to tell you because he likes you…" Allistor grumbled, his eyes drifting away slowly but snapping back to him. "And he only likes you because you're married to our brother." He stood, starting to leave the carriage and offering his hand to Francis. "Come on. You'd best leave _her_ here with the doctor lest they think you _her_ murderer." The blond nodded but didn't take his hand. He was fully able to climb out of a carriage on his own without his assistance, although walking could be another matter.

"Alright…" he mumbled, scooping Peter's gifts out from under the seat. Should he or Arthur not make it he wanted to know that these would get to him. "I-is there anything I have to do when I enter? I'm not familiar with the way things are done here, I've never been here before…" Allistor gave him an odd look and led him inside.

"If there is, then I don't know of it. I don't exactly like to think of myself as 'living' here, just staying until we find somewhere else…" he frowned, knowing that this was only sort of true. "Peter seemed excited when I told him that you two were visiting… do you want to know what he said to me this morning?" he chuckled, nudging Francis with his elbow. "H-he said that he was excited to see you two… h-he called you his uncle, 'Uncle Francis'…" a sneaky grin tugged at their lips, Francis's more clearly then Allistor's. "Just wait until he hears that he'll be an uncle himself." He glanced out the door and saw Alfred returning to the carriage with a stout little man in a long coat. Through the wind snatches of tearful speech could be heard, little things like "Alice" and "all my fault" and "should've held on". He rolled his eyes and quickened his pace. He wanted to get to Peter as soon as possible. When they reached the door to his room he stopped them suddenly, giving Francis a serious look.

"Francis." He started. "Keep your voice down. The doctors say that too much excitement can overwhelm him, and we wouldn't want any nosy princes to hear us." He glanced back again. Francis nodded to show he understood before Allistor pulled the door open a crack, sticking his head in first.

"Peter, are you awake? I've brought you a visitor… a real one, not another doctor." He whispered, stepping in and motioning for Francis to follow. The inside of the room felt like he had stepped into a completely different building. They had been paneled with wood and then paint in light blue, although far from white, presumably a calming color. Various toys were scattered around the floor, ranging from dollhouses to toy soldiers to stuffed dolls to books to things Francis had never even seen before. Long, billowing curtains hung from a single elongated window box that would, in the morning, give Peter enough light to wake up with, and in the evening make it dark earlier. A small, sailboat-shaped bed sat in the middle of the room, a lump resting under the covers. Upon noticing that Francis was just staring at the lump like he would if an angel had just popped up from it Allistor gave him a gentle shove towards the besides. Francis glanced at him, then stepped forward and knelt down. A little table sat next to his bed, covered with what at a glance could be mistaken for a rigid table cloth but was really a dozen 'get well soon' cards covered with numerous pressed and dried flowers. He chuckled, giving a small sigh before starting to speak.

"Ah… b-bonjour Peter." He started quietly. "I-I'm Francis, remember me? I married your brother… W-we'll be staying until Christmas." The lump under the covers moved, twisted, and revealed a set of sea foam-colored eyes along with the corners of a smile.

"H-hello…" came a tiny, hoarse little voice, and with the single word the eyes shut again.

...

Well, I certainly hope this satisfied your UsUk fix, because honestly it won't get much better than this- although for those of you who don't know, I did post another mini story that went with this one containing Alfred... didn't call him by that name though.

I know, this chapter is very short, but I got it in by my deadline. Hopefully next week's will be longer but probably not by much because my birthday is a week from tomorrow and I'm going to be partying hard. SO HARD.


	8. Peter

Allistor knelt down next to them. "I think we woke him up…" he whispered, reaching forward to shake Peter's shoulder. "Peter, wake up, this is a really nice surprise…" a small groan rose from the lump as it slowly pulled itself up, Peter tugging the covers off.

"How come you had to wake me up Alli…?" he mumbled, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. "I was having the nicest dream for once… we were at a picnic, and you were there, Arthur too, and mama and daddy..." The ginger-haired Kirkland boy just grinned and tousled his hair.

"I'm sorry Peter, but I assure you this is better than any dream." He gestured to the opposite side of the bed, drawing Peter's attention with him. The boy looked a bit surprised at first, as if he thought Francis had been part of his dream, and then a wide smile appeared across his freckles cheeks. He leapt forward and threw a hug around Francis's neck, kneeling so he wouldn't fall off of the bed completely and into Francis's lap.

"Bonjour again." Francis chuckled, pulling Peter over the small bed railing anyway. "A-Arthur and I decided to surprise you all and come early, stay an extra week… for Christmas…" He spared Allistor a glance to see if he was opposed to it but if anything he looked near tears, hiding a grin behind his knuckles.

"I-I didn't think I'd see you again…" Peter started, shifting to sit on Francis's knee. "Alfred is always talking about he would kill you if you set foot in the castle and sweep Alice off her feet, whatever that means, but I was kinda hoping he wouldn't… Oh, is Arthur here too? Where is he? Can I see him too?" Francis's smile faltered but he managed to keep it in place.

"Oui, Arthur is here… but he's resting now. I-it was a long trip here, you see, and um… w-well, I think he might have wanted to tell you himself but… pretty soon, y-you're going to have a little niece or nephew." He bit his lip, watching Peter's expression shift to slight confusion. He seemed to shrug off the news with blissful ignorance to what it meant.

"W-well, since you're here, I bet that means I get to hear some new bedtime stories, right?" he asked, his cheery smile appearing again. Francis chuckled.

"Oui, of course…" he replied. "I'll come and tell you one every night if you'd like…" The thought of that itself caused Allistor to visibly stiffen. He was relieved to see Peter give a little yawn, smiling again.

"Peter, you're probably still tired, hm? You should go back to bed, there will be plenty of time to talk to uncle Francis in the morning." He stood. "Francis, come with me, I'll get you some nightclothes, you can borrow mine for the night. Say goodnight Peter." He stood and left the room, eager to just grab a pair of pajamas and run back to get the man away from his precious brother as soon as possible. Peter laid back down, still looking at Francis. They were silent a few moments before Peter lifted his head, propping the pillow up behind him.

"Alli says that I'm not supposed to leave my room…" he started, a little frown painted across his pale lips. "He says I'm really, really sick… I haven't even seen mama or daddy since we got here, he says that they're really sick too…" his gaze darted to the door for a moment before he sat up, leaning in so that his lowered voice would be heard. "Sometimes, at night, I sneak out and explore though. It's kind of spooky, but… well, you get used to it." He grinned mischievously. "At night, if there are no clouds, you can see the moon through the top of the tower. There's no roof out there, did you see? It gets really snowy at night…" he laughed a little, although laughter slowly turned into a coughing fit. Francis sighed and lowered his pillow, tucking Peter in again. The boy squirmed and hugged his pillow, which Francis replaced with the little stuffed rabbit.

"Uncle…" he mumbled, not opening his eyes. "I'm glad that Arthur has you… Alli says that even being with Alfred would be better than being with a swine like you, but I think you seem a lot nicer than him. Alfred is always too busy to play with me…" he snuggled up to the rabbit and dozed off just a few moments before Allistor returned.

"Went back to sleep then, did he?" he whispered, gesturing for Francis to follow. They only went to the next room over. Allistor tossed a pair of flannel pajamas at Francis and nodded at the single-person bed.

"I don't think it will be safe for Arthur to sleep with another person right now, being in the mangled condition he's in… so you'll be here tonight." He started for the door but stopped, turning back to him again. "Peter gets… nightmares, some nights. If he comes to you, try to comfort him. My room is further than this one, so I expect you to at least try and calm him down." He gave Francis a long look before leaving him alone to change. The small room was almost exactly the same as Peter's, save for the lack of toys. It was completely mirrored; were the wall behind him translucent, he would be able to look over the back of his bed and see Peter sleeping there. He dug in one of his pockets and pulled out a little treasure of his; it was a bronze pocket watch and, resting inside, a little sketch of Arthur he'd had made from a time he had seen his spouse smile for him. He felt it to his heart and let out a long, heavy sigh.

"Oh, mon ange, please heal quickly so that I might see you again in the morning…" he whispered, flopping into bed and letting his shoes fall off beside it.

…

Allistor hesitated outside of Francis's door, listening for a moment before starting off down the hall again. It was strange, he didn't at all look like someone who could have destroyed their home, and he was just too nice to seem like he could hurt anyone, save for possibly himself. He slowed a little when he saw the doctor outside of one room, packing up his things. The little man spared him no more than a glance.

"You can go in and see her. She's just waking up and I'm sure she'll have a lot of questions…"

"And what of her injuries?" he asked, frowning. "My… sister, she's going to be alright, isn't she?" the doctor stopped, looking as if the question had sobered him.

"She has broken ribs, minor frostbite, and her back is hurt badly… I would suggest you not let her walk for at least a few days. As for the child… well, perhaps you should ask her. I'm no woman, I wouldn't know about such things… only time will tell." he picked up his bag and started to leave. The Green prince watched him go before carefully opening the door, trying not to make too much noise. The room was a bit larger than Francis's but plainer, cleaner looking. The walls had all been whitewashed, and the only blemish of color was the blonde mop of hair resting on his "sister's" head. He approached the bedside and took a seat in what he assumed had been the doctor's chair, brushing hair away from his brother's face as gently as he could until he felt him stir. He retracted his hand, leaned in hopefully, and watched the little green orbs flick open. They blinked a few times, wandered over the ceiling, and finally landed on him. Arthur's lips curled into a weak smile.

"Alli…" he murmured. He started to pull himself into a sitting position, and despite the sharp pain trying to pull him back down he opened his arms for his brother. Allistor chuckled, moving forward and wrapping his own arms around Arthur. "Th-they said… I might not see you… u-until morning…" he mumbled.

"Ridiculous, I couldn't leave you waiting that long. Even if I had to sneak in here it would have been worth it to make sure you were alright…" he forced a little chuckle in hopes of hiding the fact that he was really near tears. "Y-you know, we were all worried about you. Alfred thinks th-that he made you want to kill yourself or something…" he laughed genuinely this time but Arthur just rolled his eyes.

"I did no such thing…" he muttered, moving to lay back down. "I just didn't want to be kidnapped by him, y-you can hardly blame me… I-I, um, I know you might disapprove, but… I-I've actually come to enjoy being married to Francis. R-really, he's not so bad …" he eyed his eldest brother carefully, watching his happiness ebb away.

"I see…" he replied quietly, stiffening. "Well… I'm glad that you enjoy the company of the ones who destroyed us." Arthur winced. He had hoped that he wouldn't run into and of Allistor's rage on this little trip, at least not when it came to Francis.

"H-he's actually quite nice-"

"_Nice?_" Allistor repeated, standing over him. "Yeah, I could see that he was _nice_, even Peter could tell me that. I'm sure he was being really nice when he put that in you." He gestured at Arthur's swollen stomach as if he were ready to slap it but stopped, noting the fear in his brother's eyes. He took a breath and sighed. "You… need your rest…I'll be back in the morning." He grumbled, his teeth gritted together. He started for the door, ignoring Arthur's soft protests. If he stayed much longer he would just end up exploding at him, and if his brother needed anything it would most certainly be the opposite of that. Allistor slammed the door behind him. The sound echoed throughout the castle, jolting Alfred from his worries about Alice and Peter from his inevitable nightmares. The boy was in near tears, fragments of memories flashing through his head of the destruction of his home, or times in captivity, or having to leave Arthur. He climbed out of bed, clutching his stuffed rabbit to his chest and creeping out of his room. His first thought was to go find one of his brothers but, remembering the man next door he tried his room first. The door was unlocked and Francis was laying fast asleep, his arms empty with the place Arthur usually filled. Peter sniffled and approached the bed, looked the man over, and climbed in next to him. Francis was slowly roused from his sleep by the movement next to him. At first he thought it was just Arthur like it usually was and he pulled him closer, pecking a little kiss to his hair. Peter smiled a little, snuggling closer and giving Francis an oh-so-innocent peck on the chin. The man's eyes snapped open and he looked down, confused for a moment as to why Arthur was so small when he remembered what Allistor had said.

"Bad dream…?" he mumbled. Peter nodded, shutting his eyes and pulling up Francis's blankets. Francis just chuckled and tucked Peter in, wrapping an arm around him. "It's okay, you're always welcome to come to me. I've had my share of nightmares…" When Peter said nothing in reply he let his eyes slip shut, taking his own turn to have a nightmare.

_…_

_Francis frowned to himself, loading the last of his things onto the carriage that had been sent for him. For a moment his gaze happened to flick towards one of the large castle doors and he saw a mop of pale, stringy blonde hair dart in. He blinked, stared, then gave a little sigh, approaching the door._

_"It's alright to say goodbye you know…" he said softly. A few moments of silence passed before it appeared again, followed by a pair of brilliant green eyes._

_"I don't want this to be goodbye…" came the soft voice, followed by a small coughing fit. Francis frowned, going to their side and wrapping an arm around their shoulders._

_"Mon ange, you know it's not really goodbye, not forever…" he took their hands in his own, holding them to his lips. Their eyes darted away as he did so. Francis sighed, gently setting his hands back down. "It will only be a little while, not much longer than our visit… and you'll be all healed up too. It's dangerous enough for you to travel in your condition, but with the injuries…" he stopped, noticing that the blonde looked about to cry. "And if you want, I'll write you every day." He brushed their tears away, watching them return their gaze to him._

_"E-every day…?" they repeated, sounding hopeful. Francis laughed a little and nodded, pecking a kiss to their cheek._

_"Every single day. Just don't forget to write me back, alright?" he smoothed their hair back, earning a darling little smile and a hug around the neck._

_"Y-you'd better not forget about me…" they whispered._

_"Ne sois pas stupide, I could never forget my own wife…" his hand wandered from their waist to a round, firm place in their stomach. "And I certainly couldn't forget this little thing." He straightened up, giving the blond one last little peck on the lips before heading back to the carriage. "I promise, there's not a thing in the world that could make me stop wanting to see you!" he called, taking his seat in the carriage and snapping a finger for the driver to start. Through the window of the carriage door he watched his beloved slowly disappear, letting the curtains fall back just in time to miss the other by their side._

_…_

_Francis sighed, tapping his pen against his desk. The moon was just starting to appear in his window, although it was partially covered by heavy clouds. Surely it would snow tonight. He was grateful for the crackling fire in his room keeping his ink from freezing. He dipped his pen, hesitated a moment, and then started to write;_

_Dearest Alice,_

_I wonder if it has been too long since we have seen each other. I swear I barely remember your face from the day we parted barely three years ago now. Every day I wonder if I'll come home to see you waiting for me. I'm so eager to meet our petite dame. Mother asks about you, father tells me I'll have to marry again if you don't return soon. I've made up my mind to come visit you in a week, although I wonder if you'll even get this letter. If you do I beg that you reply, if for nothing else then to tell me that you still care to think of me._

_Francis._

_He sighed, blowing on the ink to make it dry faster. In the three years he had been writing to his spouse he had never once gotten a reply. He knew nothing of what had become of him, or their child. He could only assume that in three years his injuries would have healed but he wouldn't know. As he had said he would be visiting, regardless of whether or not the letter reached the Blue castle. His things were packed, and there weren't any major storms foreseen for the rest of the winter season- a blessing if he'd ever had one. He folded the letter neatly by thirds, tucked it into an envelope, and pressed his seal to it. It was simple, although he'd had it made special; an intricate rose with a clover sitting in its middle. He held it to his window again to help the wax cool. On clear nights- unlike tonight- he could see right across the rooftops, even mountains, and with proper binoculars held just so he could see all the way to the pennants hanging from the Blue castle. The clouds reached all the way to the mountains tonight though, blocking his view of even the city gate. He eased back in his desk chair and ran a hand through his wavy hair. He had stopped brushing it so much since he never saw Arthur anymore. It wasn't as if he was trying to impress anyone, and his father didn't really care as long as he kept it no longer than to his jaw. It no longer brushed against his shoulders the way he had once loved, it barely caught the wind or the sunlight, but he didn't care. He stood from his chair and flopped into bed, placing the envelope on a little table by his door._

_"What's the point of looking nice if no one you like is going to see you…?" he muttered, rolling onto his side and pulling a pillow into his arms the way he had once done with Arthur._

_…_

_Francis had to hold his hat to his head as he climbed down from his carriage. There was no storm, thank goodness, but the wind had picked up during his trip. For the first time in what felt like eons he stared up at the towers and turrets of the Blue castle. It hadn't changed a bit in the three years since he'd seen it last. Slowly he proceeded to the door, raising a hand to knock but retracting it quickly when the door opened on its own. Inside stood a pretty young woman. Her hair just barely touched her shoulders. She looked not much younger than himself, possibly a year, although he could tell that this wasn't the case. Whatever she did at the castle must have kept her busy as the dark circles around her eyes made her look older._

_"Excuse me, miss, do you know where I might find mon Alice?" he asked. The woman's eyes fixed on him and he stared, his small smile disappearing at the sight of the brilliant green orbs before him. They were both silent for a while, simply taking each other in and what the years had done to them. Francis's gaze slowly drifted downward, catching a little gleam of green on her finger that matched her eyes near perfectly; The wedding ring. Francis felt like his insides were swelling up with happiness at the sight of it. He pulled her into his arms, laughing and nearly crying with joy. "I-it's been far too long, mon amour…" he whispered. The blonde in his arms did nothing, just trying to process what was happening, before gently pushing him off._

_"I-I'm sorry, I… didn't know we were expecting a visitor." She murmured. Francis looked her over again, stepping inside._

_"You remember me though, don't you Alice? Or… Arthur?" he asked, The different name seemed to snap her from her daze._

_"Now there's a name I haven't heard in ages…" she murmured. "Arthur… nobody has called me that in years… a-and they aren't supposed to." With a last glance at Francis she turned and started to walk away. Francis ran after her. He had no intention of letting his wife-husband?- leave him all over again._

_"Ar—erm, Alice, surely you remember me? I'm Francis, your husband, your love…" he walked alongside her. "And you aren't Alice, you're Arthur. Arthur! You should know, it's your name."_

_"Is it?" she asked. Francis blinked, not expecting a response. "I haven't been called it in so long that I've began to wonder if it was ever really my name… I don't get much time to think about such things though, not anymore. I have much more important things to think of." Francis slowed but Alice continued, leaving him in the hall until he continued to run after her._

_"W-wait!" he shouted. "What could be more important than this? It's your life, your past, your everything. What could be more important than that?" He only stopped shouting because, at that moment, his foot caught on something and he fell. Alice didn't wait up for him, continuing into a room with little animals carved into the door. Francis rubbed his head where it had hit the stone floor and scowled, glancing back to see what he'd hit. Strangely enough it appeared to be a toy of sorts that had also gotten stuck somehow, a little wagon carved from some sort of wood. He picked it up, glancing around. The door Alice had gone through immediately caught his eye. He pushed it open quietly, glancing around the room. Toys of every kind littered the floor, as well as books and dress-up clothes. Alice stood at one side of the room, walking up and down it and seeming to watch over something. When she noticed Francis she frowned and pressed a finger to her lips, a silent 'be quiet', followed by a little wave for him to join her. He hesitated but stepped forward to see what she was talking about. Alone the wall three cribs were situated, each one a different pastel color. A small child lay in each one, cuddling with one of a few stuffed animals or dolls and tucked in. Francis stared, raising a hand to cover his gaping mouth. _

_"Ah, A-Alice, which one—"_

_"None of them." She cut him off. He shot her a look of incredulity but she did nothing, saying it as simply as she would tell him that his tea was ready. "Yours died the night it was born. She was a scrawny little thing… I-it's funny really, I remember thinking that it may have been my fault, but now I don't remember why…" she trailed off. His face fell. It was like having to leave her all over again. He reached for her hand but she pulled it away. "Don't you worry about it… It's not as if I can go back with you now though, I…I can't leave them, I'm all they have…" she went to one of the cribs and stroked the hair of the child inside, presumably the oldest. Francis wrapped an arm around her shoulders._

_"W-we could take them with us… th-the nursery is still there, we-"_

_"You don't understand." She looked up at him coldly. "I'm not going back with you Francis. I never wanted any of that, to be trapped with you for the rest of my life. There wasn't a moment I was there that I didn't wish I could be in my own home, and you took that away from me." She swatted his hand away. "This is the closest thing I have to home now, and nothing you say could make me want to leave it." Francis just stared, tears trickling from his eyes. He took a few small steps away._

_"A-Arthur…" he whispered, opening his arms again. She just turned away again._

_"If your mission today was to make me come back to you… well, consider yourself a failure." She walked to the window, only glancing back at him to shoot him a burning glare. "And I hope no other woman had the displeasure or bad taste to be bound to you for the rest of their lives…" She folded her hands behind her back, staring down at the icy courtyard. Francis just stood, watching her, occasionally glancing down at her children. Alfred's children. He left the room silently, sinking to the floor and crying into his balled fists._

_…_

Francis awoke with tears rolling down his cheeks. Although he'd slept for hours and the sunlight was now streaming in and across his face he was exhausted. A slight shifting at his side drew his attention, hoping to find Arthur laying there next to him but, not so disappointingly, it was only little Peter. But Arthur… he had to go see Arthur. He glanced down at himself; the clothes he'd worn to town yesterday were apparently the ones he'd slept in as well. He carefully climbed out of bed as not to wake the boy, tucking him in again. The sun had only barely risen, it was surely long before the time he woke up. Francis tried to shut the door behind him as silently as he could, walking down the hall a little ways and reaching the loft over a little sitting room before realizing that he had no knowledge whatsoever of the castle's layout. He ended up wandering for quite a while, trying to find a door that looked like it could have been Arthur's. It was an interesting little journey, as he got to watch and listen to the castle slowly waking up; a few young men or women came around and doused the candles in the hallways, the scent of baking bread and cooking meat wafted from one corridor, a soft murmur of voices rose around as the servants started to wake up and go about their day's tasks. He swore that they must have mistaken him for one of them although they never said anything. They didn't seem to know of his or Arthur's arrival either, something he learned after asking a few of them if they knew where 'Alice's' bedroom was, to which they would reply "Who's Alice?". At one point he started to wonder if he would find the room at all, slowing by one door that looked like it was about to come off of its hinges. He peeked inside jokingly, expecting to find a small closet or something. Instead he found a room with clean, white walls and a single large window covered by pale pink drapes. The room was fairly sized for a castle, containing little more than a wardrobe, a mirror, and a bed, but it was the latter's occupant that made Francis's breath catch. A disheveled mop of straw-colored hair sat atop their head, partially covering the pair of peridot that were fixed on him. He took a few steps forward.

"Ch-cher…?" he murmured. He almost didn't recognize his beloved husband; his arms were bandaged all over, little splotched of red blossomed in some parts, although thankfully not so much on the bandaged stretched over his swollen stomach. His skin was paler than the walls that surrounded them, the only color in his shining eyes. Exhausted as he looked he managed to pull his lips into a weak little smile.

"F-Francis…" he whispered, attempting to sit up. Every nerve in his body screamed for him to just lay back down but he didn't listen, at least resting partially sat-up against a pillow. "I-I'll admit… I didn't sleep so well last night… I-I'm too used to having you next to me, a-and the pain kept me up most of the night." He sighed, his head rolling back to its position staring up at the ceiling. Francis just shook his head, only barely listening to his words. He was too focused on his appearance.

"Oh, Arthur…" Francis knelt at his bedside, his arms wrapping around him gently in a sort of wrap-hug. "W-we're all just so happy that you're alive… you look like y-you're in such pain though, I wish you hadn't jumped, m-mon amour…" he felt like he could cry. Arthur gently stroked his hair, his smile perking after a little while.

"Ah, there was one good thing th-that came from it…" he chuckled. "I-I think that our child survived this all…" at this Francis looked up, his eyes wide with hope.

"I-it's alive?" he asked, straightening up. "Y-you think our little one is alive?" Arthur gave him a little nod, taking one of Francis's hands and moving it to the bump in his belly.

"It was late last night, possibly past midnight, I'm not sure… I-I just had all of these thoughts brewing in my mind, l-like whether or not my brothers would like you, or let you stay, or how they would react to finding out that I'm like this, or if they would freak out a-and how I would explain…" his smile started to fade until Francis gave his hand an encouraging little squeeze, bringing back his thoughts and his wonderful grin. "…A-and then out of nowhere there was this sort of… jolt, f-from the baby… I-I didn't know what it was at first, i-it scared the hell out of me, but then it happened again and I figured out that it… k-kicked." He said the last word the way he would have said yes to a proposal of marriage- as if he knew what that was like- and watched as Francis's jaw dropped. He covered it with his free hand until he could turn it into a wobbly little half-smile, by which point tears of joy were running down his cheeks. He stood on his knees and hugged Arthur's stomach, pressing his lips to it.

"Mon enfant, mon cher petit enfant, tu es toujours avec nous ..." he murmured, his tears soaking Arthur's nightgown. "N-ne jamais effrayer papa comme ça…" Although he couldn't understand a word the other said Arthur could tell it was something heartfelt, starting to tear up himself, running a trembling hand through Francis's hair. Francis looked up at him, some of his happiness fading. "I… I told Peter he was going to be an uncle...He wasn't really all that excited, I don't think he quite understood...And Allistor yelled at me. He said he would kill me if you died yesterday or died to have the child, and I know he hates me somewhere inside. He just won't say it directly...But everyone except the servants and your parents know about our child...And w-well… if they kill me today, I guess this could be my last time to see you, cher." He kneaded his fingers into his swollen stomach lovingly, wondering if he really would live to see their child. At this Arthur sat bolt upright, tears leaking from his eyes.

"N-no, no, no! They can't kill you, I… I-I won't let them!" his eyes were wide with terror. "I-if they laid so much as a hand on you in ill will, I-I would never speak to them again, I swear, F-Francis, I l… l-lo…" he hesitated, then sighed. "I… I need you… I-I can't live without you…" he whispered. He looked like he was about to start sobbing. Francis noted this and sat up, feeling around for the chair the doctor had been in and sinking into it quickly, clasping one of Arthur's delicate hands between his own.

"Ch-cher, calm down, y-you're trembling…" he said sternly, stroking his hand. He had been warned by many a matronly woman during his time in Wayfall that the last thing 'Alice' would need was more stress, as anything that negatively affected her health could hurt their child as well. "I… I-I'll admit, I thought I had lost you last night. You and Alfred were so far ahead, miles ahead for all I knew, and I felt like I was going to pass out after chasing you just a little while… I thought that by the time I reached you, y-you would be dead or worse…" he shuddered, thinking back to his nightmare… b-but you're both alive, a-and okay, and I don't think th-that I could let even death could separate us now." He scooted a little closer, resting one hand on Arthur's hip. "I… I-I didn't know that you would be able to feel it… I imagine that it's exhausting, having a second little life to support in there…" he let his hand work up a little, gently kneading his swollen belly. He leaned in so that his hair and Arthur's brushed together, his own draping over Arthur's forehead a little. "If I can help it, we will stay together to the extent of our lives, and I'll see to it that all of us are happy, even Peter… which reminds me, that boy really does want to see you." He chuckled. The mention of Peter caused Arthur to perk up a little.

"Oh, Peter…" he sighed wistfully. "I can't wait to see him again… Did you get to see him yet? Was he doing alright? I've been sort of worrying that growing up in a place like this he would end up spoiled like Alfred…" he rolled his eyes. When they were young- and even not-so-young- Alfred would always bring him the most lovely gifts that only a woman of obscene vanity could appreciate, things that Arthur would accept but then leave sitting in his room in a pile on top of his dresser. Never had he gotten such luxuries anywhere, and never would he appreciate them the way Alfred did. Francis looked almost a little surprised at the idea, but he thought it best to answer Arthur's questions about his brother than to bring up the topic of Alfred again.

"Ah yes, Peter, Allistor says he's gotten si…" he trailed off. Surely this was the most inopportune time to tell Arthur of Peter's apparent and sudden illness. "Erm… h-he gets nightmares, or something. Last night he had one and he ended up coming to my room and climbing in bed with me… he is every bit as sweet a child as I remember him to be, although I fear his nightmares may have run off on me." He laughed a little, although he shuddered to try and remember what exactly had scared him so much about the whole thing. Arthur chuckled and gave Francis a little smile.

"Well, thank you then…" he leaned forward just a tiny bit, allowing Francis to make up the difference by moving closer himself and allowing himself to be pecked on the cheek. Before he could say anything, however, a muffled wailing was heard from far away.

"Oh, that…. That must be him…" Francis cringed. Arthur glanced at the door, making a face like he didn't believe what he was hearing. He'd forgotten what it was like to hear someone's tears other than his own.

"C-can you go get him and bring him here?" he asked, frowning. "I mean, I would do it myself, but…" he glanced down at his various injuries. Francis just gave a nod of understanding and returned his kiss with a quick smooch on the lip.

"Yes, of course." He replied, dashing from the room and leaving a slightly flustered Arthur behind.

...

Well, happy end of summer everyone. I'll try and get back to my usual posting schedule of at least a chapter a week, although considering that this is being posted on Sunday and not Thursday this is the chapter for this week. I'm starting at a new school, I need time to figure shit out.


	9. The Magician and the Music King

Peter groaned, rolling over in bed again. For the most part this would be a typical morning, he'd get up, maybe someone would bring him food if he just waited a little longer… he listened to his stomach and decided that he wasn't too hungry, slowly sitting up. Perhaps if he waited and pretended not to feel well he could get one of the pretty servant ladies to bring him breakfast… what day was it? He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and looked around the room. He frowned a little to himself.

"Wasn't the window over there yesterday…?" he mumbled to himself. Come to think of it, where had all of his things gone? Why was everything so weird looking? He glanced down at the bed and noticed a little spot of blood soaked into the sheets, going up to the pillow. "Oh, that's right, I came to Francis…" he trailed off, his eyes going wide. Francis. Where was Francis? He stiffened, looking around the small room. Tears started to prickle in his eyes, taking only seconds to turn into full-on sobs. Had his brother decided to take the man away after all? His new Uncle hadn't done anything wrong since he'd been there, unless he'd tried and done it while he was asleep… Peter's sobs turned into wails, simply trying to attract the attention of a nurturing figure which, luckily, happened to be Francis. The man quickly took a seat on the bed next to Peter, wiping his nose on the long sleeves of his shirt.

"Desole, desole, I didn't mean to be gone quite so long…" he whispered, wrapping an arm around the boy. No sooner had he done so than Peter threw his own little arms around Francis, something about demanding an explanation. Francis bit his lip. "I… I-I just had to go check up on Arthur…" he sighed, letting Peter climb into his lap. "I was up earlier than you… H-he wants to see you too Peter, I was just coming to get you." He cooed softly, beginning to help the seemingly endless tears. "Ah, h-he's fragile though, as are you, s-so you may have to go back to bed soon, b-but you can probably come see him now." He stood, somewhat reluctantly letting Peter cling to him and carrying him a short ways before he seemed ready to walk on his own- and 'on his own' of course means 'while holding Francis's hand and also sort of clinging to him'. Upon reaching his brother's room he nearly shrieked with joy, a pleasant if not slightly shocking shift from being near silent during their walk. He pulled up a stool by the bed but hopped into Arthur's arms, earning a grunt of pain which was quickly masked with a little chuckle.

"G-goodness Peter, how y-you've grown…" he coughed, gently pushing the boy to the foot of the bed. He gave a little nod and happily took a seat by his feet. It was at this point that he noticed the bump in his belly. He frowned, peering at it from over his brother's knees.

"Arthur…" he started, looking up at him. The grin faded from the older brother's face. "You… you've gotten bigger too. Like, a lot bigger." He gave the bump a poke. "Have you been eating a lot of food or something?" Arthur stared, then forced a weak little laugh, again brushing off his brother's hand.

"A-ah, yeah, I suppose th-that's it…" he shot Francis a glance and a wink, to which his husband nodded in a sort of unspoken 'Don't tell him or else I'm not letting you share s bedroom with me' as well as a silent agreement. It wasn't as if what Peter thought was a lie though, Arthur had gained a bit of… non-baby-related weight while at the castle, his face had gotten a bit puffier, his complexion softer as well as his chest, although these were still only partially related to the fact that the chef made the most delicious chocolate cake that he was only a little bit addicted to. Besides, it wasn't as if Peter needed to know the reasoning behind it anyway. "S-so, um, Peter… h-how have you been?" he asked, hoping to shift to a less personal subject.

"Really, really sick!" he replied, his little grin still in place. "I have to spend most days in my room. Alli brings me my food most of the time."

"O-oh, I'm sorry to hear that…" Arthur mumbled, his own expression faltering.

"It's alright though." He continued, as if Arthur hadn't said a word. "On accounta' Francis is in the room next to mine now, and he's really super nice. Last night, when I was getting my night terrors, he let me sleep in his bed." Peter's little chest puffed up as if getting to share a bed with his brother's husband was some great honor, better than any medal he could hope to receive. Arthur nodded.

"Well, how sweet of him, did you say thank you?"

"No, but he left me alone this morning so I think we're even." Arthur laughed, to Peter's confusion. The younger of the two simply leaned over his brother's arched legs again, watching him. Arthur's little grin once again twitched uncomfortably and he sat up, lifting Peter from his little perch and setting him in the stool next to Francis's. The Red prince chuckled and took his previous seat next to the confused little boy.

"Ah, I-I'm sorry Peter, my back had been hurting me lately. I hate to make you sit so far away…" he mumbled in explanation. Peter nodded understandingly, if not a bit disappointedly. Francis, taking the opportunity now that Peter was out of earshot, leaned in to peck a kiss to Arthur's cheek.

"We'll have to tell him eventually you know…" he whispered into his ear, his smile slightly less bright when he pulled away. Arthur's own little grin twitched, but he responded in a silent nod of agreement. As far as he knew Peter didn't really _know_ where babies came from, aside the obvious connection to pregnancy which normally occurred in women. No doubt he'd ask all sorts of questions his sweet, innocent little grin and his wide, curious eyes, the same questions that kept Arthur up at night and drove him nearly to tears when he realized he knew next to nothing about the things taking place in his very body; How _was _this happening- without the simple explanation of "magic"- and what the hell were they going to do in four more months when their child was ready to be born? He frowned, letting his hands come to rest on his stomach. He'd think of it later, when he could stand it better. Francis retook his seat next to Peter and turned to face the boy. "Peter, wouldn't you like to hear about our castle?" he suggested, sending Arthur a glance.

"Our castle?" he repeated, sitting up a little. "Oh yes, so much to tell… th-that said, I spend most of my time indoors these days… Francis, why don't you tell him something? You're better with storytelling than I am…" he chuckled absently. Francis nodded in only slight annoyance, his expression morphing to a thoughtful little frown.

"Oui… um… ah, what about the tale of the Music King's Treasure?"

"The Music King?" both brothers repeated, two set of bushy eyebrows raised in either interest or questioning disbelief.

"Oui. You see, Arthur and I were exploring the palace together one day…" he started, pausing a moment to give his husband a little wink. "…for no particular reason, just to explore. We passed room after room, and we came to one filled with… evil ghosts. Ghosts of people who had suffered gruesome deaths, and those who had tormented them there." Francis's lips were pulled into a little smirk as he watched their eyes go wide. "We had to fight our way out, and some of the ghosts even followed us- nice ones though, they escaped after- but we ran and we ran until we reached another room. Now, we didn't know it at the time, but it so happened that it was the room that the Music King himself once slept in before leaving to marry the… Flower Princess. We even found a piece of his music, and it was the most beautiful song… ah, you should have heard it Peter, it was such a lovely sound, I've played it many times since." He sighed contentedly. Peter was ecstatic with the wonder of the story. Arthur, having understood what 'adventure' he was talking about only halfway through, was grinning knowingly.

"It's a true story too. He plays that piece for me all the time… it's simply magical." he added with a little chuckle. "Perhaps if you're good, we'll bring it for you to hear on our next visit Peter, would you like that?" The boy nodded eagerly.

"Maybe its magic can get rid of my night terrors!" he grinned. Arthur simple nodded, his expression softening.

"Yes… speaking of which, you still look exhausted. Perhaps it's time you go back to your room, hm?" he asked. Peter frowned, opening his mouth to protest when Arthur cut in again; "If you're extra-special good, perhaps there will be a special little something under the Christmas tree for you." He added. This silenced Peter. He stood and gave Francis a hug, squeezed Arthur's hand in a sort of alternative to a hug, and took his leave, starting in a small fit of sneezes just outside the door. Arthur bit his lip as he and Francis sat in silent a moment, listening until the sound faded away. "Dear me, it would seem that he really is sick, isn't he…?" he mumbled.

"Oui, he definitely felt like he had a fever last night…" Francis agreed, turning back to Arthur. Now that Peter was out of earshot- not that he hadn't enjoyed the boy's company- he saw his opportunity and took it. "…s-so what did the doctor say about you then?" he asked, his gaze returning back to Arthur's belly. "I-I mean, you looked just awful, a-and you still sort of do…"

"I'm going to be perfectly fine." Arthur answered quickly. He was actually struggling to remember what the doctor had said and exactly how he had said it, having been exhausted and in pain beyond the point of actually absorbing information. Francis perked up.

"So, you don't think you'll have to stay for anything to heal? N-nothing like that?" he asked, wishing to confirm that his dream would be nothing more than just that; a dream. Arthur shook his head.

"N-no, I believe I'll be fit to travel again soon… a-and even if I did have to stay or something, I wouldn't allow you to leave without me. Y-you've seen how Alfred is. He's little more than an overgrown child really, always has been… Allistor tells me he's turned away lots of girls, dozens, hundreds maybe, girls that are prettier or richer or better for him than I am, but he always insists that he'll only take me, married as I am." He lifted his head from the pillow, looking Francis in the eye seriously. "He only pursues me for fun, as he does with everything. If he ever should have me, or if he had in the first place, he would grow bored quickly… and if not that, he would never love me as a man…" he sighed. Francis, noting that the topic was drifting into something Arthur seemed reluctant to talk about, decided to back up a little.

"Yes, he is quite childish… yesterday, when I found you two, he just scooped you up and shouted at me, something about your 'love', his love for you, such nonsense…" he scowled. It would only be worse if Alfred allowed his jealousy to take over. What kind of monster such a thing would release he was actually afraid to see. "I'm afraid that if I try and kiss you he'll have my head… it would be nice for him to just wake up and face reality." He sighed. He really did fear that Alfred would try and take his place, or somehow trick Arthur- _his_ Arthur- against him. It still confused him as to why the man had rescued him when he so clearly wanted him dead. Even beyond that they were still complete strangers to each other for the most part, it was as if he'd scraped a nobody off the street. He sighed, glancing at the door and pecking a cautious little kiss to Arthur's cheek. "The last thing we need is for either of them to think any worse of me than they already do… they might think I'm a spy or something, talking to only you and Peter-"

"Francis, I don't care what they say or think, there isn't a person alive I'd rather be with than you…" Arthur said softly, earning a little smile from his husband. He was already sure that one- if not both- of them wanted him dead, and for Arthur to be without his child. He opened his mouth to speak again but only coughed, then coughed again, wiping blood away from his lips. "A-ah, my apologies… I suppose that neither of us are really doing so well, oui?" he tried to brush it off with a little chuckle but Arthur frowned, struggling to sit up and feel his forehead.

"Doesn't feel like a fever… w-we could talk to Allistor about getting someone to look at you though… who knows, maybe if we can get him on our side, Alfred will follow." He chuckled. It wouldn't be so difficult to convince Alfred of anything, he was near-sure of it. The first time they had met after their escape he had dismissed his dressing as a boy as a disguise and, despite his boyish face, haircut, and body, Alfred had whole-heartedly believed him, even going so far as to tell him that he looked 'beautiful no matter what he wore'. Francis took Arthur's hand and lowered it slowly, his lips resting against the younger prince's knuckles for only a second before the door started to creak open. He glanced back only to find the eldest of the remaining Kirkland boys standing in the doorway, holding a large tray of food. He dropped his husband's hand and held his own up as if to prove his innocence against some unspoken crime. The redhead merely frowned, his eye giving an involuntary twitch before he entered.

"Thought you'd be in here…" he muttered, approaching the bed. Arthur tugging his legs aside to make room for the tray, his stomach grumbling silently as it came close enough for him to smell it. "Thought you two… _lovebirds_ would be in here first thing." Arthur scowled, his cheeks turning red at the name, 'lovebirds'…

"Th-thank you…" he grumbled, taking a fork and skewering a piece of what appeared to be fruit.

"The doctor will be here later to take a look at you, Francis too I suppose…" he added, as if he hadn't included Francis in his previous statement. "Oh, and don't expect to see Alfred until at least noon, he'll be sleeping late as usual, that lazy little sonofa…" he allowed his voice to fade with the last word, starting back for the door. Arthur rolled his eyes and shoved the fruit in his mouth, relaxing only once his brother was gone again. He took the other fork and stabbed a piece of egg on it, holding it to Francis's lips.

"Eat." He instructed simply. Francis did so, pleasantly surprised that the food wasn't as awful as he'd been led to expect. It was presented nicely at least, with the egg and semi-toasted bread pushed to one plate, the fruit to a little bowl with oranges cut into star-flower shapes sitting on top, one of which was partially eaten by Arthur already.

"My compliments to the chef…" he mumbled jokingly, letting the taste settle onto his tongue before swallowing. "Let's shift the topic to something a little better, shall we? You don't seem to be quite so miserable today, no throwing up, no crying, no… moodiness…" he chuckled. Arthur gave a nod of acknowledgement and little else.

"There hasn't been much to upset me the same way there is at home. Usually by the time I've woken up you're gone. Occasionally I get to see your carriage disappearing down the path and I wave, and other times I see the carriage still sitting out and I try to run and meet you… only sometimes though, usually I'm up before dawn and I read myself to sleep again…" he huffed a little sigh. Being alone on those mornings did make him feel abandoned though, the little spark of worry inside of him growing and telling him that Francis didn't care or wouldn't be coming back, or that he wouldn't make it home, the kind of gut-twisting fear that lasts the entire five minutes before his breakfast is brought to him, the kind that has to be taken out on one's breakfast via vigorous stabbing and squishing with one's fork… not that he would know a thing about that. "Funny really, normally we never get to eat together like this… and yet now, we've gone and done it two mornings in a row. I suppose that it something worth being happy about…" he shrugged, taking a bite of the first thing his fork stabbed. "As for throwing up… I think I may have already, last night. I got it into a wash cloth though, and I think I swallowed some of it…" he shuddered. Francis cringed, tugging up a blanket to cover his beloved prince's legs.

"Oui, w-we really did only eat together for a little while before I started to occupy my time again…" In truth he had been instructed by his mother to spend a little time with his bride, make 'her' feel welcomed, or at least a little more so than a few certain castle-goers did. "It hadn't occurred to me at first that you actually missed me, I just thought it was about your family, that you wanted to be with them again…" he took a little cup and poured himself whatever was in the little kettle that was brought for them- he couldn't tell whether it was tea or coffee- and held it a little while. He had spoken to the magician not long after, complaining of his own stresses over tea just as he and Arthur were. He'd been appalled to learn that Arthur had practically _begged_ the man to turn him into a woman before settling on what he'd gotten. Surely he understood that, regardless of what Francis's parents thought, his own family would never let either of them hear the end of it if they came to visit with a sister instead of a brother.

…

Said magician was currently sitting at one of his worktables, high in the tower, flipping through one of a number of leather-bound books with a furious scowl on his face.

"No, no, no… _God_ _damn it_! Damn it all!" he shouted, smashing a fist- as well as a small bowl of nutshells- against the table. A lanky, scruffy haired young man popped up from the door frame, peeking in at the man.

"Uh, sir? Are you alright-"

"_Yes_ Thomson, I'm just _peachy._" He growled, turning to face him. "No, I'm not alright! I've made the most awful mistake!" he threw his hands up, leaving his seat and pacing the floor. "It's that young man—woman, Alice, who comes in here nearly every day. She was supposed to have died last night. Just look, middle of the page, third paragraph…" he nodded to the book. Thomson, shocked and confused, gave the book a glance. The page read around eight o'clock, the time being blurred due to the one who's viewpoint it was not knowing the time whenever it had happened.

_...I threw myself off the carriage in hopes to get away from Alfred, but I fell off. It hurts so much, I fear…"_

He frowned, reading the sentence over a few times to make sure he'd gotten it. It didn't make much sense to him.

"So… what's the problem? Just because it says she stopped talking, doesn't mean she actually died-"

"But that's just it you stupid boy!" screamed the magician, snatching the book away before shoving it's neat little cover in his face. On its cover was scrawled, in neat, curly cursive, 'Arthur D. Kirkland', although the Arthur had been scribbled out- just as it had been on the marriage form- and replaced wit a crudely written 'Alice'. "These books aren't just _about_ people's lives, they _are_ people's lives! Every book you see here, every single one, represents a life. This is the archive of the Red Kingdom." He gestured around the room to the hundreds if not thousands of books covering the walls up to the high ceiling. "This one is hers. Last night, it said that she died from a carriage incident on a little street just outside of Wayfall. The bookmark formed, that meant that her death was pending. With an injury life that I could only assume she would die out there, lacking proper medical care, but I come in this morning and the book is still here! So I open it, not only is it no longer pending, several chapters have appeared! Look at this Thomson!" He thrust the book into the young man's face again and aggressively flipped the pages, some of then whapping against his prominent nose. "The book was supposed to burn up, that's what they do when people die… it just doesn't make sense…" he sighed, flopping into his chair again. Thomson, still not quite understanding, flipped ahead to where new words were appearing on the page.

"Well… what are they doing now?" he asked, giving the man a glance. The magician lowered his hands from his eyes, revealing a glare icy enough to freeze the magically-enhanced mint and holly scented candles throughout the tower. He sighed, taking a look at the page and flipping back one to see what he'd missed.

…

Arthur simply shrugged, stuffing another piece of something into his mouth and half-chewing it before shoving it into his cheek.

"I've sort of grown accustomed to your absence… but you know, it does seem as if those children love you every bit as much as I do, if not more." He let a little smile slip. "There was a time I had wished you would just forget them and spend a little time with me, at least to show you cared, but I think that they need you more than I do." It was Francis's turn to laugh.

"Need me? I would hardly say that… to them, I'm simply a married man who happens to visit them a lot, doing odd jobs to support his beautiful wife and future child…" he emphasized each name with a little kiss to Arthur's hand or stomach, turning his face a brilliant shade of red.

"A-ah, yes. W-well, perhaps y-you can take us with you again sometime… once I've had a chance to talk with Alfred again…" he chuckled weakly.

"Oui." Francis gave a nod, taking a polite little bite of egg. "I believe it is time I think of you two a little more often. I have at least been thinking of names… for the baby, of course." He gave Arthur's belly a little grin as if he hoped their child would see him.

"Oh, right, that… it would be nice if we knew the gender, p-perhaps when we get home I could ask that magician…" Arthur's grin faltered. In truth he too had been thinking of names, or at least attempting to. It was traditional to name one's child after the general their father served under during wartimes- it was how both Arthur and Peter had gotten their names- but he'd had difficulty actually thinking of new names, seeing as there was no war to speak of at the time. Most of the names he did come up with were those of generals or other high-up military men, names he found to be unattractive, and he couldn't come up with a single nice female name… although he was sure Francis had said he wanted a boy. "I… I haven't really thought of any myself. Growing up in a household of all boys sort of does that, I suppose, a-although I don't think it would be so bad if we did have a girl… sh-she'd be a sweet little thing I'm sure…" he mumbled the last bits, the words quietly lost on Francis as he tried to recall the small list he'd accumulated.

"Oui, we should consult with him, he might be able to tell us what it is… that is, if we're only having one." That seemed to snap Arthur's attention back to him, earning an almost panicked, wide-eyed look, a twitching smile, and a delicious blush spreading across his cheeks.

"I… I-I sincerely hope it's only one…" he mumbled. Francis chuckled.

"Well, even if it isn't I've got no shortage of names. There's Benjamin, Marius, Jean, William, Adam… oh, and if there's a girl it could be Annabelle, Catherine, Saria, Victoria…" he trailed off, trying to think of others. His eyes- having wandered to the ceiling during his short rambling session, trained back on Arthur, finding a surprised pair of peridot eyes staring back at him.

"I-it seems as if you've given this quite a bit of thought… I feel a little bad, as if I haven't done my share of the thinking in this…"

"Oh nonsense!" Francis swatted away the thought as if it were a pesky bug. "You're carrying the child, aren't you? I would say that's more than enough…" he leaned in over him, one ear resting against his belly. "What do you think little one, is your mammon doing her job well?" he asked it jokingly. Arthur's little grin returned and he pushed his head away playfully, even managing to laugh without hurting himself too much.

…

The magician gave a little sigh. "Oh, that's sweet… they were talking about me, and now they're thinking of names for their baby." He leaned over the books, watching the identical list of names fly across the pages of their books. "I just can't wait to tell them that they're having a-"

"Boring!" He scowled, turning to face his apprentice. Thomson had eased himself back against the edge of a table, looking rather upset with the content of the books. He stepped forward, interpreting the list as a whole lot of nonsense and going to the last line of Francis's, rubbing it out with an eraser and changing

_"I wonder what our child is thinking, I swear I feel it moving inside of him…"_

to

_"I wonder what our child is thinking, I swear I feel it moving inside of him, although as I listen I can't help but notice the door sitting slightly open, the teary eyes of some unknown listener just barely visible before they slam it shut…"_

The magician all but threw Thomson away from the book, snatching the eraser from him. "You can't just go meddling with people's life journals you idiot, it's dangerous! You could-" he happened to catch a glance of the page, skimming through what he'd written and lowering his ready-to-slap arm. "…who is it then? Who's watching them?" he asked, slightly interested. Thomson shrugged.

"Heck if I know…" he grumbled. "Let's just watch and see."

…

As if by some unseen force Francis's eyes flicked to the door just in time to see the teary eye of their eavesdropper. He froze, about to tell Arthur to do the same when the door slammed shut. They jumped at the noise, the younger prince looking around to find its source.

"Wh-what was that?" he whispered. His eyes moved cautiously around the room, reaching the door was still hanging a little bit open and watching a hand dart out to shut it again, more quietly this time. He watched, then frowned. "…Alfred? A-Alfred, is that you?" he called, no longer afraid to be heard. He stared incredulously at the door, sitting up. "Alfred Jones, you come here this instant!" he shouted. There were a few long, awkward moments of silence, as if the young prince was hoping they would forget about him if he was quiet enough, before the door was slowly pushed open again, the Blue prince's eye magnified slightly through his glasses. His gaze fell the ground and one hand rose to sheepishly readjust his glasses.

"Just trying to protect you…" he mumbled.

"_Protect_ me?" repeated Arthur. "From what, my own _husband?_" At the word Alfred's head snapped up again. He looked as if he wanted to scream.

"He doesn't have to be your husband Alice!" he replied quickly, run-walking up to the bed and snatching one of Arthur's delicate hands. "I… I-I love you!" he winced at the words as he said them, but he held fast to Arthur's hand, going to far as to drop to one knee and grip so hard his knuckles turned white. A stray tear rolled down his cheek. "Y-you're the most beautiful, most amazing, most wonderful woman I've ever met! B-besides, you can't be in love with him!" he gestured at Francis, earning an offended gape from the elder prince. "A-Alice, think about it. He's killed hundreds, dare I say thousands of people, hurt even more, many of them your own! Alice, I could-" he was cut off by a harsh slap across the face. Arthur stood halfway-up on his knees, towering over him.

"Don't you _dare_ speak of Francis like that you spoiled, self-entitled little prick!" he screamed, tearing his hand away from Alfred's and replacing it with Francis's.. "I _do_ love him! I know he may have killed before, but you talk as if you're no better than he is!" Alfred seemed to cower away under his words. "Just look at yourself, you little coward, hiding behind the stone walls of this fortress of a castle and watching as the god-damned world crumbles away outside! If you cared for me at all you would have at least tried to have helped me when I needed it. Where were you when I was being dragged from my home, my entire life gone just like that, and you did nothing! Where were you when I was locked up for _years_, being beaten and bruised and scarred and _raped_ and neither you nor your people lifted a finger to help me, or any of my people for that matter! And then, the first time I see you in _ages_, as if I even need rescuing, you fucking kidnap me, drag me off as if nothing has happened, as if I'm like your little toy that you can just come and get whenever you think you want me again! Is that what I am to you Alfred?!" he glared down at him, fiery heat boiling red in his cheeks in contrast to what color had drained from Alfred's. The younger prince's lips trembled. He stood again, a shaky hand rising to rub the pink hand-shaped mark on his cheek.

"A…A-Alice, I-I'm so sorry, I… I…" he choked on the words, extending a hand. Arthur's eyes softened but he held his expression as furiously as before, pushing his hand down again.

"G-get out of my sight…" he growled. The Blue prince nodded solemnly and started for the door again, his hands moving from his cheek to his tearful eyes. Arthur found himself panting lightly. A light wetness had risen to his own eyes, revealing themselves as tears as Arthur fell a moment later at Francis's side, sobbing into his arm. "S-sorry… y-you had to see th-that…" he whispered between choked, burying his face in the fabric of his shirt. Francis himself felt as if he could cry, although for the sake of his beloved he kept his tears back. Alfred did have a point; he had mindlessly slaughtered hundreds upon hundreds in the name of a pointless war, slashing at anyone who happened to stand even remotely close to his way let alone in it. Men, women, children, the unborn, he'd done away with an entire family in just seconds, setting fire to houses and barricading them from the outside just to listen to the screams of the trapped innocents inside, either burning to death or being crushed as the floor caved in beneath them. It had all seemed so pleasantly unreal, picking off little nobodies in the town of who-knows-where, perhaps even some tiny, unrelated kingdom if they'd gone far enough across the border. His father had been so proud of him that day…

"Th-that was… quite powerful, th-those things you said…" he murmured, wrapping his free arm around him. He eased them a little closer to the bed to make Arthur comfortable, running his fingers down Arthur's soft, ivory skin and letting him cry away, choking out silent sobs.

…

The two men stared at the books, eyes flashing rapidly across the pages as words seemed to appear faster than they could possibly be written. The magician was gaping, covering his mouth with one hand as he read and re-read all that Arthur had just said.

"Whoa…" came the soft, whispery voice of Thomson. He turned to face his young apprentice who, unlike himself, looked less than surprised. . "I… I-I only changed one little sentence… D-do you know what this means sir?" he scooped up Francis's book, flipping several pages until he found the few words he'd added. "We can change so much! We can improve the world, stop wars, save lives… we could be heroes!" he held the book up as if it were a trophy. The magician stared at him, then around at the other books in the room. He stood, taking the journal from Thomson and setting it back by Arthur's.

"Thomson…" he started coldly. "You are hereby banned from entering this room again. Get out."


	10. Foreshadowing -dramatic sound effects-

For a while the couple sat together, Arthur laying across Francis's lap and Francis gently stroking his back. He knew to leave well enough alone aside from the occasional nod of agreement.

"I-idiot…" Arthur grumbled, to which Francis responded with a nod a bit heartier than those before it. "E-eavesdropping like that, I don't know what he was hoping to hear… I can only imagine what he _did_ hear…" he huffed a pouty sigh and sat up a little. "I-I know he still loves me, I knew he'd n-never stopped loving me… but he just goes about it the wrong way, l-listening, watching, hell h-he kidnapped me… I-it's a little scary… I-I… I wish he could have been th-this attentive when I did need it…" he frowned, saddened at the idea of Alfred waiting for him to return like a little puppy waiting at the door of his master's home, whining and wishing that he would return eventually but never thinking to look for him, as if he would just magically appear as did everything in his spoilt life. He grabbed one of the plushier pillows and smothered his face in it, screaming out his frustrations into the embroidered silk. Francis chuckled and wrapped an arm around him.

"Shh, mon cher…" he whispered, leaning in enough so that when Arthur lifted his head to respond he could press their lips together. One hand moved to cup the back of Arthur's head, tilting it gently to one side and keeping him from retreating away, something Arthur had no intention of doing. They worked their way back into a sitting position, nearly falling backwards when they made it all the way up. Arthur was saved from tumbling over only by Francis's catching his hands, pulling him up for one last peck on the cheek before giving him a little smile.

"J-je suis desole…" he mumbled, his cheeks softly tinted with pink. Arthur just gave him a weak grin and sat up, letting them fall back to an only slightly less awkward silence. The younger prince happened to catch a glance at himself in the mirror and his grin faded; he was an absolute wreck. His lovely green dress was in tatters, a good amount of the dirt rubbed off on the sheets as well as a small amount of his own blood. A sigh escaped him and Francis looked up, following his gaze to the mirror. He reached for Arthur's hand, cupping it in his own.

"Want me to help you change into something a little more…?" he started, the last word made unnecessary. He pecked his lips to Arthur's knuckled before tucking his hand into his lap again and standing, going to a nearby wardrobe as if by routine. He didn't know why he thought there would be things for Arthur there, or why there _were_ things for him there. Had Alfred planned on giving them separate rooms in the first place? When he thought about it, it really didn't sound so unlike him. He dug through the rack of dresses and picked the one that looked the least… indelicate. "This one looks a bit like the green one…" he returned to the bedside and set the dress down, helping Arthur stand and turning him around to get to his backside.

…

Alfred flopped onto his bed furiously, smothering his own face in a pillow not unlike Arthur had done and rolling around on top of the unmade covers, screaming muffled swears through his tears. "_Why does she have to hate me so much? What have I ever done to her? God dammit I'm only trying to help!"_ He didn't even look up when the door creaked open. He knew who it would be. He did, however, cease his childish rolling, stealing a peek at the intruder.

"I assume she didn't take your eavesdropping well, hm?" came the voice of the eldest Kirkland boy, kneeling next to his bed. Alfred said nothing at first, pouting for all of about three seconds.

"…y-you heard that?" he asked.

"Alfred, _everyone_ heard it. Everyone. I was in the shop downstairs and near underground, and at the bellows, and even I could hear that screaming." He frowned. Alfred rolled up, crossing his legs but still holding the pillow in his arms. "Perhaps it's time to just move on-"

"Don't you _dare_ say that." He snapped. "I… I-I can't move on from her, y-you know it. Sh-she's my entire world. N-nobody's ever asked you to move on from Veronica…" Allistor scowled, his hand balling into a fist. If he hadn't come to make the boy see reason he would have punched him for bringing up the name of his late fiancée. He took a deep, shaky breath, then let it out as a sigh.

"Alfred, let me ask you… in all the many years that you've been in love with my sister, have you ever been able to remember the color of her eyes?" he asked. Alfred frowned.

"H…her eyes?" he repeated. "Uh… I-I don't see what that… n-no…"

"Do you know her birthday?"

"N-no…"

"Favorite constellation? I know you two have gone star gazing…"

"No…"

"You don't know any of those things, and yet you can look me in the eye and tell me you love her?"

"…" Alfred's gaze lowered. Allistor had succeeded in making him realize that he was, in fact, an idiot. "B-but… but I've t-tried so hard to make her happy… I-I've done all I could, wh-why can't she just love me back?"

"Alfred." He set a hand on the boy's shoulder. "You aren't listening. Yes, I'm sure she's been quite happy with you in the past, but it takes more than just happiness to earn a woman's love. There can be love without unconditional happiness. You only love my Alice because you think she's just the prettiest thing you've ever seen, am I right?" he asked. He waited a few moments for a denial but received nothing, to his slight surprise. When he became tired of waiting for a response he stood, starting for the door again. "And think about it, why would she love you? She's married now. She and Francis have more than just happiness, they have affection, and their cild, they talk with each other, spend time together… and I'm beginning to wonder if she's really better off with him than she would be with you. This is the first time in months I've seen her smile, with him…" he shut the door behind himself, leaving the Blue prince to his tears and his thoughts.

…

Francis had locked the door before starting to undress his husband- not wanting another little mishap like before. The green silk dress fell away easily, nearly in pieces. It was at this point that he realized that this would be the first time he would see Arthur completely bare. His only chance before had been in the dark, and the last time they had dressed together was ages ago, when he still had to wear a corset because his waist was so thin- although never thin enough, for whatever reason.

He started to feel around for the new dress but stopped, taking a look at his husband. If anything he was a little glad to see that he had indeed gained weight in something other than unborn child. His figure was softer, perhaps a little puffier. He draped the dress over one arm and stood at Arthur's side, wrapping his hands around his waist. If it hadn't been for the swelling in his stomach he was sure his hands would have touched.

"F-Francis, whatever are you doing?" The elder prince blinked, his eyes making their way back up to Arthur's. His cheeks were bright red.

"O-oh, desole… good to see you've been eating, I-I suppose…" he chuckled, removing his hands and helping him into the new dress. It was surprisingly loose, hanging off of him as if it were a gift from someone who had tried to guess how big Arthur was but had guessed a little generously. More than once he found his eyes flicking down to the prominent bump in Arthur's stomach. It only took a couple minutes- not including the minute it took to do the dress up in the back. Arthur watched him in the mirror the entire time, frowning a little at the new dress. He preferred the green one. This new dress had the chest cut a bit low for his liking.

"D-do I look alright Francis?" he asked rather loudly, just to break the oppressive silence. Francis glanced up, then down, then back up. His eyes stuck on him in the mirror. He dropped the remaining buttons, wrapping his arms around him from behind in a little hug.

"Magnifique." He replied simply. Arthur's cheeks reddened further.

"Oh, s-stop it…" he muttered, although he let a little smirk slip. Francis beamed and gave him a little peck on the neck.

"How can I stop? I've barely gotten a chance to appreciate it properly, seeing as I'm hardly ever around. He straightened long enough to do up the last button; a good few less than there were on Arthur's green dress, he noted. Rather than making him walk again he scooped his lover up, earning a squeal of surprise, and set him in bed, propping up the pillows for him. "You need anything else? Anything at all, mon amour?" he asked, going to far as to lean back into the bed and lay with his stomach just below Arthur's bare feet.

"No Francis, your company is just fine." He poked at the other's flat stomach with his toe. Francis gently fondled Arthur's feet, toying with his dainty toes as his gaze drifted up to the stained-glass window on the ceiling. It seemed that the snowstorm had lightened up quite nicely, leaving only a nice, powdery snowfall at this time in the morning. It would pile up, dimming the light, and then when it started to clump it would slide off, brightening the room again. It was fascinating, and Francis found that he could keep his eyes trained on the little window for far longer than he would have thought when he counted and realized that he had been waiting several clumps for one particular speck of snow to be pushed off. He glanced up at Arthur; the still exhausted prince was fast asleep, his hands folded over his stomach and his head lulled gently to one side. Francis chuckled, returning his eyes to the high up window and stopping only to take Arthur's opposite foot.

…

The magician still sat at his desk, flipping back and forth between the pages of Francis's and Arthur's journals. He'd taken them to his own family's little section of the tower, consisting of two large rooms on two floors directly parallel each other. To make a comparison, it wasn't so unlike having a two-story house within an apartment complex, only the apartment complex is also a library and a laboratory. Thomson was sitting in a small seat opposite his own, flipping through his own journal- only after the magician had confiscated all writing implements from him, of course. The elder man took a sip of what could have been tea or coffee and turned to his apprentice.

"Thomson…" he started, setting down his delicate china cup. "Exactly what were you hoping for when you added to Francis's journal, hm? What did you _think_ was going to happen?" Thomson looked up, sipping some similar beverage from a larger glass correlating to the amount of caffeine he could take.

"The heck if I know, I just wanted something interesting to happen. Things were getting boring. All I wrote was that that guy, what's-his-face, he was listening-"

"I know well enough what you wrote Thom." He cut in. The apprentice stood, looking over his shoulder. On a page of one book, Arthur's, there were thin, scrawling letters written ahead in pencil, shining pale silver against the page. They were only barely visible to him. Thomson could only see them because they reflected in the soft glow on a lantern. "I've read ahead a little, you see. Whatever it is you've started, it's not going to end well. There's something here about Christmas, Christmas day, something simply horrendous is going to happen to them…" Thomson peered at the thin letters. For all that he tried he couldn't read them. He went to Francis's book, flipped some few pages ahead of where the normal ink-written letters were appearing and searching for the same invisible lettering. Surprise surprise, nothing appeared.

"I doubt anything will happen, nothing ever does. They're always so happy and lovey and dull, that's why I wanted to spice things up. All that ever shows up in Francis's journal are things about how much he loves Arthur." The magician scowled at his apprentice.

"If you think Francis's story if boring then you haven't read his past…" he muttered.

"I haven't read—There _is_ no past! Haven't you seen that chapter around some birthday of his, sixth or seventh, it's all blank for nearly a year's worth of pages!" he shouted, crossing his arms like a barricade. "How am I supposed to read that?" The magician stared at him, shaking his head slowly and letting it come to rest in his palm.

"…I suppose I couldn't expect you to understand that part just by reading it, you weren't here yet. And even if you were, you wouldn't have been old enough to understand…" he sighed, shutting his eyes and staring at the red spots for a while before giving another heaving sigh. "Around the time Francis turned seven years old, he fell into a coma. There are words there, but… they're so strange, I can't even read them. It's all the scribbles of a child, a desperate, frantic child, trying to escape from a world he doesn't understand, or a death that's been waiting for him since the day he was born…" the man chuckled, taking the book from Thomson again and carefully turning back to the current page. "You may return to your book… oh, and the pen stays with me." He held out a hand. Thomson stared at it, acting surprised, but eventually dropping a fine little silver pen into his hands and returning to his own life's story.

…

"Arthur?" called a soft voice, someone just beyond the veil of the green-eyed prince's sleep. One eye opened, meeting cerulean blue and shutting another few moments before he sat up a little more.

"Yes Francis…?" he yawned, stretching his arms as much as he could without hurting himself. Francis sat cross-legged at the foot of his bed, both of Arthur's feet settled in his lap.

"Ah… w-well, I remembered something I wanted to tell you… I-I thought it was rather important, but I just hadn't been thinking about it lately…" he waited, taking a little nod from Arthur as a sign to continue talking. "The magician… he said at some point to me that he thinks we should expect our child around April, m-maybe the twenty-something he said…" Arthur gave another little nod, his eyes starting to close again.

"Arthur?" he started again. The Green prince's eye opened once again, slightly annoyed this time.

"Yes Francis?" he repeated.

"April twenty-third… it's your birthday." Arthur gave another nod.

"So our little one and I will be able to share the holiday." He mumbled. "What part of this news was worth waking me up from such a nice nap?"

"W-well, he says that there are lots of risks…" started Francis again. Arthur's brow lowered.

_'Is that all? He's been brooding on my health or something as he sits and rubs my feet?'_

"…y-you are young and all, hardly any age to be a parent, y-you… you could die." He bit is lip. He had been sitting on these worried for sometime now, trying to decide whether or not it was the proper time to tell Arthur on the few occasions they did see each other at home. Often he just didn't want to spoil their time together and kept to himself, silently worrying that he was killing the other from the inside. They really didn't know how much any of the magic being used could hurt or help him, or if they would really be alright at all. "I… I-I don't want our little one's b-birth day to be th-the day I lose you…" Tears prickled in his eyes and he quickly rubbed them away. Arthur, still half-asleep and almost not listening to what Francis was saying let alone giving a crap, leaned in and wrapped his arms around him loosely.

"Oh Francis…" he murmured. "Don't let me catch you thinking such things… I'm strong, strong enough for this child and for you. I won't let myself die…" he yawned, scooting a little closer. "As long as you promise to be by my side when I'm there, I'll tough it out for you two…" Arthur managed a little smile, resting his head against his spouse's shoulder. It just broke his heart to see Francis in such a state, worrying over Arthur more than Arthur worried over himself. He did worry of course, quite loudly at times- usually so loudly and terror-stricken-ly that it required a small team of maids or servants to calm him down once he started up- but he was so calm and content now, not a thing in the world could worry him. He didn't want to worry now. If anything he wanted to know that he could calm Francis down a little so that he would have the peace of mind to go back to his delightful sleep. "I know just as well as you that this is dangerous… but if I hadn't wanted it, I wouldn't have let this happen, okay?" he yawned, smearing a kiss across Francis's chin on his way easing back into his little pillow throne. His eyes shut again peacefully, a little smile gracing his lips as he let himself drift off again. Francis sat back and watched, idly toying with his toes and mumbling to himself.

"Y-yes… i-it will all be fine…" his eyes drifted slowly to the swelling in Arthur's belly. "Please, j-just be strong for us Arthur… j-just do it for our little one…" he sighed. As soon as this child was born, he decided, it would be some time before he and Arthur had another one together. Even if nothing went wrong, he had no intention of seeing Arthur like this again for a little while at least. He laid on his side with his head at Arthur's side, draping an arm over his belly. "Oh, Arthur…ju suis desole…" he mumbled, massaging little circles with his thumb through the dress. "Mon petit, let your mama sleep, he needs it…" he whispered, shutting his eyes wearily. "Desole… desole…"

…

_"If your mission today was to make me come back to you… well, consider yourself a failure." He walked to the window, only glancing back at him to shoot him a burning glare. "And I hope no other woman had the displeasure or bad taste to be bound to you for the rest of their lives…" Francis nodded silently. The same nightmare as always, haunting him, as if it wanted him to believe that this was the truth. Something was different this time though. The usual two or three little cradles or beds were gone, replaced by a single one centered in the room. And Arthur… he still appeared to have the little lump sticking up from his belly. In fact, it looked larger than Francis remembered it. He left the room as he always did, venturing to the outer courtyards this time. He found himself moping silently below the window to their child's room- how he knew it was that room he had no idea- and kicking at the ground as if to bully the world into pitying him. A crashing sound got his attention but he didn't look up immediately. It was only when he heard a scream, Arthur's scream, and a shuffling in the bushes beside his little seat, that he looked over. There lay his beloved, laying on top of a particularly thorny bush. His eyes were rolled back, disheveled hair fallen in front of his eyes. After a few horror-struck moments of staring blood began to ooze down the corner of his mouth. His body looked a mess. While the bushes had somewhat broken his fall, they hadn't done quite enough to keep the fall from breaking him completely._

_Alice_

_It seemed to have been just minutes later that Arthur was gone, with some doctor behind some wall in some room Francis wasn't allowed to enter. Some physician was trying to get him to choose, if it came to it, between Arthur and their baby. He didn't know what he really would have picked but he kept refusing to choose, telling them to save them both, save his Arthur, save his child. Then the doctor was gone, and there was more screaming from the other side of the door to Arthur's room. He stood outside, listening, hoping, fearing, clenching his fists until he couldn't take it anymore and he burst into the room. Upon his entrance a bundle of white cloth was shoved at him before the doctors rushed back to a bed. There was blood everywhere. An unrealistic amount of blood, as if someone had attempted a roadkill barbecue and someone had thought it would be funny to set the grill to 'combust'. It was all over the floor, oozing from the table like the table itself was bleeding. He could see Arthur's feet, twitching with every pained scream, but he couldn't do a thing to help. He glanced down at the bundle of clothes and noticed a tiny, tiny little hand, attached to the smallest baby he had ever seen. For some reason he found it grotesquely fascinating, enough so to distract him from the dream's changing of scene as he found himself staring down at a headstone reading the name of Kirkland- whether it was Arthur or Alice he couldn't tell- with a shrill crying coming from the bundle. He shushed it softly, tears leaking from his eyes._

_"Th-that's your m-mama, mon petit…" he whispered, cradling the weensy thing in his arms. "Th-that's your mama, and I c-couldn't save her… d-desole… desole…"_

_…_

Arthur had woken up by this point of his own accord; or rather, he had allowed himself to be woken up when the scent of food graced his senses. Allistor had brought him a lunch tray and a few books. Francis was still curled up at his side, occasionally mumbling something in his sleep. Allistor, being the concerned if not ever-so-slightly weirded out brother he was, offered to move him, but Arthur politely declined. He enjoyed Francis's silent company. So there he sat a while, nibbling his small lunch on a tray balanced between his knee and Francis's head, and reading one of the many fairytale books. He tore his eyes away from the book only when the tray started to shake. He removed it to find that Francis was trembling underneath, his face contorted with pain and terror. Tears glistened on his eyelashes. Arthur watched this a moment, surprised.

"Francis…?" he whispered, sitting up a little. He set the tray aside and pulled Francis's head into his lap, running his fingers through the soft, golden hair. "Francis, are you alright? Are… are you asleep?" He didn't know why he'd bothered with this final question when the answer was obvious. He set the book aside, marking his page, and giving Francis his full attention. He pulled Francis up a little, his head now cradled under his arm. It felt like ages of worrying before Francis finally jolted awake, teary-eyed and trembling. "Francis, are you alright?" he asked softly, watching wide-eyed. Before he could get an answer out Francis had his arms around Arthur's still fully intact body, gripping him desperately as if letting go meant watching his life slowly dissolve away through pained cries as he'd seen in his nightmare.

"D-desole… desole…" he whispered. Arthur placed a delicate hand on the back of his head and it jerked up, cerulean-blue eyes turned back to his own.

"F-Francis, it's okay, you're okay now…" he gave him a little smile, leaning in carefully and planting his lips on Francis's forehead. The elder prince lay silently for a moment, taking shaky breaths and trying to process that all of the horrific things he had seen had been just images, things never to be.

"D…desole…" he mumbled a final time. "I-I had the worst dream… s-someone, Alfred, p-pushed you out a window, a-and I had to pick either y-you or our child, and-" He was cut off by two smooth ivory fingers to his lips, belonging to Arthur.

"I don't want to hear a word about it." He said simple. "For now, just know that it's not true. I know you worry, and I'm really quite thankful that you do, but you're worrying me… nothing is going to happen Francis. I'm just fine, and so is the little one, alright? Honestly, you're more worried that I am and you're not even the one with it living inside of you!" he grinned jokingly, smoothing his husband's rumpled hair. Francis nodded, sitting up a little. One arm was still draped around his belly, protecting him from some unseen danger. Arthur held him for a short time, letting him calm his nerves through a constant, steady stream of blubbering sobs, all met with comforting shushes and assurances that everything was going to be just fine, or at least no worse off than the last time he'd promised him that they would be fine. He wished that they had the luxury of alcohol to calm their nerves, but sadly Allistor hadn't brought him any so the most Arthur could offer his sob-stricken husband was a bit of uneaten fruit, an offer he didn't even bother with it was so pathetic. Francis did eventually calm himself down, no thanks to Arthur.

"I wish it wouldn't sound so much like this child is a bad thing when I try to talk of it… it's the best thing that's happened to us. I suppose I'm j-just afraid that Allistor and Alfred will have my head if you don't come out of this ordeal alive…" he mumbled. Arthur sighed with a little smile.

"Oh Francis, that's just silly. I wouldn't let them do any such thing to you, I've already said so." He pressed his lips to his husband's forehead. "Come on now, let's talk about something more pleasant. Anything at all, as long as it's not about dying." He grinned, awaiting a response from Francis. It took the older prince a little while to think of anything, pulling himself up and wrapping an arm around Arthur before clearing his throat.

"Y-you know…" he started, sniffling pathetically. "W-we never did pick a name… n-not really anyway." He couldn't seem to remember them choosing one at least, having gotten caught up in Alfred's sudden appearance and dropping all things unrelated to his being generally obnoxious.

"Ah, that's right… but we don't know the gender. I still say we should wait and ask that man if he can tell us." Arthur pointed out, helping Francis sit up a little straighter. He gave his husband a smile, then watched his cough a few times, then a few more, then nearly fall over the edge of the bed in a horrible fit of coughing that he swore resulted in a little blood leaking from his throat onto his crisp sleeves. "My goodness Francis, are you alright?" he asked, frantically reaching around for something for him to cough into other than his clothing.

"O-oui…" he croaked. "A-although… I hate to admit, I may also be in need of proper medical care…" he cleared his throat, giving Arthur a little smile. "N-not quite as much as you do." Arthur frowned, nodding slowly.

"Y-yes, well… when Allistor returns, I'll have him bring you something for that cough… and something to eat, you look pale." He held his hand to Francis's cheek, a gesture that was met with a playful little swat and a peck on the lips.


End file.
